


Give Me a Reason

by Millenniumnexus



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bang Chan-centric, Chan, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Lee Felix - Freeform, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Relationship Conflict, Romance, Self-Harm, Sex, Shy Lee Felix (Stray Kids), Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, aussie line, bang chan - Freeform, bang chan and lee felix, chan and felix, changbin, felix - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28807911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Millenniumnexus/pseuds/Millenniumnexus
Summary: Chris had an accident when he was 19 that left him with nothing but pain. While he struggles with his addiction to prescription pain medicine, he also struggles to keep his relationships friends and family intact. At a bar, he meets a young bartender named Felix. What role will Felix play in Chris’ journey? What lengths will Chris go to feed his addiction? How long will his accident haunt him? Will he rise up, or will he take everyone, including Felix, down with him?(TW: Drug Use, Explicit Sexual Content, Self Harm, Violence)
Relationships: Bang Chan & Lee Felix, Bang Chan/Lee Felix, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 58
Kudos: 54





	1. Deeper Into Greater Pain

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy chapter one of my story! Please comment and let me know! <3

Chapter 1

Chris was nineteen when he had the accident. 

The edge of his skateboard rested on the ground, the other end gripped firmly in his hand, as he stared down at the stairway that led to the bottom of his father’s work building. His father had worked in the same grey, plain government offices for as long as he could remember. Ever since his older brother, Changbin, had taught him to skate, his eyes had been drawn to the staircase as he waited outside of the building for his brother to finish up his work and meet him outside. Changbin had remarked on multiple occasions, chuckling as he trotted down the stairs to meet Chris at the midway point of the staircase, that you’d have to have a death wish to attempt a grind down it. Chris knew he was right, because his older brother hung the moon and held the illusive secrets to life in Chris’ eyes, but something about this specific handrail dared him. 

Chris looked across the street at the large clock that towered over the town square. The time was 6:12, and Changbin was running late. He peered behind him at the front doors of the office building and waited with an anxious flutter in his heart. Part of him was hopeful Changbin would waltz out of the door and stop him before he took the dare. Chris waited, but Changbin didn’t come. At 6:15, he made his final decision. 

He dropped the skateboard to the ground and steadied it under his foot. It glided back and forth beneath him as he sized up the railing with narrow eyes. He rolled back a few feet, took a deep breath, and pushed forwards towards the railing. With one movement, he was on the rail. He smiled brightly as he began his descent. Half way down the railing, his legs began to become uneasy, and the skateboard wobbled beneath him as he sped quickly towards the bottom. 

He could hear Changbin shout his name from the top of the staircase, but the wind lashed at his face as he tried to maintain his balance. A small protruding lip of weld at the end of the metal handrail caught the edge of the board and flung him many feet forwards into the road.

He thought he heard Changbin scream, but he couldn’t be sure as a thick, heavy tire passed over his leg, crushing it beneath the weight of the car. Chris screamed as the fire in his leg ripped upwards to his hip. He tried to sit up, and stars danced in his eyes as he felt the ground around him, trying to ground himself. His hands traveled desperately to the afflicted leg, where he felt something sharp and wet graze his hand near his shin bone. 

As his vision drifted in and out, he could tell that he wasn’t just near his shin bone, he was touching the jagged, shattered reminisce of it with his fingertips. 

Changbin sprinted to him and leaned down next to him with his hand over his mouth in horror. “Oh my god.” 

\----------

Chris’ head was pounding. The light from the cracked blinds shone directly into his eyes and he placed a hand over them with a groan. He could hear quiet rummaging in the kitchen and a voice, low and soft. 

“Of course. I know. I’ve told him… I can’t make him do anything, he’s a 21 year old man.”, he could hear Minho whisper-talking and the sound of coffee being poured into a cup. “If you want to micromanage him so badly, then you come get him then.”. Chris sat up and flinched at the pain in his right leg. He fished in his pockets in a search for a pill bottle, found it, and took 3 dry. He peered down at the healed over scars from the metal pins and eyed the ripples of reddened flesh where he could vividly remember the sight of the protruding bone as Minho continued. “I know, I know.”, he sighed with equal parts frustration and empathy, “He’s welcome as long as he wants, Jisung couldn’t stand to see him on the streets, you know that. I’m sorry for worrying you… Okay, I’ll tell him. Bye.” 

Chris sat still on the couch as Minho turned the corner of the kitchen to go back to his office with a coffee cup clutched in his small hands. He peered at him over his glasses with a worried expression, and Chris wanted to tell him that he’d heard what he’d said on the phone. “Oh, Chris, goodm-... afternoon I mean.” 

Chris rubbed his eyes numbly. “What time is it?” 

“It’s like 2:00 pm, I think.”, Minho sighed and flipped the living room light switch on. Chris winced and groaned. Minho stood for a moment, stuck in thought, before speaking up. “Chris, we need to talk later. Jisung and I have to go to his work’s Christmas party at 6, but when we get back can we please sit down and talk?” 

Chris shuddered and peered down at the ground. This felt oddly like his mother telling him ‘Just wait until your father gets home’. His mind wondered. Maybe it felt more like an intervention. His heartbeat picked up pace by a third as that thought settled in his mind. Minho cleared his throat, waiting for an answer. Chris just nodded without looking at him. Minho left him then, off to his office to do work. 

When 5:30 pm came around, Chris had accomplished nothing. He’d gotten up twice, both times to pee, and watched game shows mindlessly as the time passed. Jeopardy was on. When he was younger, he and Changbin would compete and make fun of each other when they got the questions wrong. Of course, Changbin was rarely wrong, and Chris was wrong most of the time. Now, Chris couldn’t focus for long enough to answer the questions as they flitted across the screen. 

Jisung and Minho knocked on the door frame of the living room and leaned in the say that they’d be back late. Chris gave them a nod and told them to drive safely. Minho looked as if he wanted to say something, but pressed his lips into a tight line and turned on his heel to leave before it could make its way out of his mouth. Within the hour, things began to come back into focus. He was acutely aware of the buzzing noise the light above the kitchen stove was making. He felt the scratch of the wool blanket that draped around him make him itchy. He swore he could feel the metal in his ankle grind harshly against the bone. He took the pill bottle out of his pocket again and dumped the contents into his hand. There were 2 left. 

Chris took one to tide him over and placed the other back into the bottle. He found his wallet in his back pants pocket and counted the money inside. He had $20. That was enough for only one pill. He sighed, closed his eyes, and let his head fall back against the back of the couch. He thought he had more. He couldn’t remember what he’d done with the rest of the $400 Changbin had given him a few days ago. 

His phone buzzed on the couch next to him. He opened it, sliding up on the photo of him and Jiyoo smiling brightly together, and clicked the notification. It was from Changbin. 

Changbin: Dinner friday?

Chris texted back a simple “Sure.” To be honest, he wasn’t sure what day it was that day, but he knew he would be free. He was always free these days. He clicked out of Changbin’s messages and clicked the second most recent text conversation. He texted the number with shaky fingers.

Chris: You around?

Rat: Yeah, I’m at the bar. You got my money? 

Chris: I’ll get you it soon. I have a few hundred, if you could hook me up today.

Rat: You’re lucky I like you. Yeah, I’ve got some. Head over. 

Chris, in fact, did not have a few hundred, but he knew that Rat would laugh in his face if he showed up empty handed again for the upteenth time. He had made it very clear that his patience had run out with Chris, and he’d seen enough fallout from being around previous deals gone wrong with Rat to know he was serious. 

Chris had already taken everything that would go unnoticed by Jisung and Minho. When prices were lower, he was able to sell an extra computer keyboard, Jisung’s 3DS, and a few pairs of shoes at the pawn shop for enough for a week of pills. Either demand was higher now, or Rat just didn’t like him, because the prices had doubled in the past month. After looking around the house for half an hour and coming up short, he stopped in the hallway with his hands on his hips to peer down the hall at Jisung and Minho’s bedroom. He’d vowed never to step foot in their bedroom, trying desperately to scrape together the last shred of human decency for the friendship he maintained with them, but today he had no options. 

Inside Jisung’s table, there was nothing of value. He thumbed through a shonen manga and dropped it back in the drawer. He grimaced at the lube in the bottom drawer, which held nothing else, and slammed it shut in frustration. He made his way over to Minho’s side drawer and took a look. Minho had much more in his drawers. The top one was filled with books. 

Chris pulled the top book out. It was dense and heavy. “Dante’s Inferno” was scrawled delicately across the plain front. He flipped through the pages and admired Minho’s handwriting that littered every margin of the book neatly. His eyes caught a word as he flipped through that made him stop, and he turned the pages back frantically to find it again. 

In the margin, Minho had written one word:  **_Chris_**

_ “But the stars that marked our starting fall away. _

_ We must go deeper into greater pain, _

_ for it is not permitted that we stay.” _

Chris ran his finger over his name and felt the indentions the pen had left beneath the ink before folding it shut up placing it gently back atop the other books in the drawer. He had almost given up when he spotted something that looked valuable in Minho’s bottom drawer. It was a necklace; a thin, delicate gold chain with a small pearl dangling from it. Chris draped it back into it’s faded black suede box and stuffed it into his pocket before shutting the drawer half haphazardly and leaving the house. 

The deal had gone down rather simply. Chris had gone to the pawn shop to exchange the necklace for money. It was worth more than he thought it was, and when the pawn shop clerk handed him the $800 hesitantly, he felt the anxiety that the one pill burning a whole in his pocket caused him to melt away instantly. After that, he’d met Rat at the bar. Of course Rat made his threats, which he, as usual, brushed off and they exchanged the pills and money. 

By the time he’d made it back home, it was 8:00 pm. Minho’s car sat in the driveway, and the engine tinged from the heat of being recently driven as he paced past it. When he came through the door, Jisung stood from the couch stiffly to face him. Minho remained sitting on the couch, face buried into his hands. 

“Where is it?”, Jisung came around the couch quickly and advanced towards Chris, stopping inches from him. The fury in his eyes should have frightened him, but it didn’t. He clutched the full pill bottle in his pocket and took a deep breath, momentarily comforted. 

“What?”, he asked, pretending to be confused. Jisung lurched forward and grabbed him by the collar. Chris didn’t fight back. 

“Don’t fucking bullshit me. The necklace that was in the nightstand. Minho’s necklace. Minho’s mom’s necklace.”, he spat at him. 

“Jisung!”, Minho stood from the couch and turned to them. Tears were streaming down his face in a steady flow, and the cold exterior around Chris’ heart that his intoxication brought with it fractured a little. “Let him go. We don’t know it was him!” Jisung ignored him and clutched Chris’ collar tighter, causing Chris to choke slightly. 

“I’m not going to ask you again, where is it?”, he said in a harsh, now quiet voice. Chris watched Minho’s worried, panicked face continue to stream with tears for a moment before letting out a sigh and closing his eyes. 

“I sold it.”, Chris admitted. Jisung’s hand loosened

and his mouth fell slack in disbelief. Chris reached up and clutched his sore neck and refused to meet Jisung’s eyes. He couldn’t bare to see the disappointment that filled his expression. There were few people left in his life that gave him an ounce of empathy or trust, and he felt that rare connection with Jisung slip away with the passing moments of silence. 

“I don’t understand.”, Minho whispered from where he still stood behind the couch. Jisung turned to look at him over his shoulder. He wasn’t crying now. “I knew it was bad, but I never thought…”, he trailed off with a blank stare into the distance. 

What part of Chris’ heart that he could still feel broke in two. One half was filled with memories; memories of Minho, who he’d betrayed so significantly that night, along with Changbin, Jisung, Jiyoo… It contained happiness, sadness, forgiveness, and most of all his love for them. The other half, the bigger half, was filled with the sweet numbness and, at times, euphoria that the pills in his pocket gave him. Minho looked up into Chris’ eyes for a moment, and Chris saw no trace of the usual carefree nature of Minho in them as his eyes tore away from Chris and he shuffled slowly back into his office. 

Jisung turned back to him. “I think you need to leave now.” Jisung was crying now, something Chris had never seen in their years of friendship, apart from he and Minho’s wedding day. “I wish you didn’t make me do this.”. Jisung left Chris in the doorway for a moment and came back holding his belongings. It wasn’t much; a backpack with a skateboard attached to the back. He took it numbly in his hands, still staring blankly at the floor. The familiar ache in his leg pestered him.

He was surprised when Jisung wrapped his arms around him tightly. Chris pressed his forehead deeply into Jisung’s neck and clutched his backpack in his hand as he held him. “I’m sorry, Chan.”. His heart fluttered weakly at the name that only Changbin had called him since the 6th grade. “I’m sorry.”, Jisung sobbed.

With his back facing the shut and locked door of his last meaningful friendships, he became aware of how cold it was outside. His nose lost feeling almost instantly as he began to walk away from the home. He walked for what seemed like forever until he made it to his goal; the pawn shop. The clerk’s attention was sparked by the bell that rang as it closed behind him. 

“What can I do you for?”, he smiled. Chris limped to the counter with purpose and scanned his eyes over the glass enclosed jewelry. 

“I came in here earlier with a necklace.”, his eyes continued to anxiously search the case, “It was gold and it had a small stone on it…”. He tapped his foot impatiently.

The pawn shop owner thought for a moment. “Oh! Yeah, I remember now.”, he shuffled over to the other register and pointed down through the glass case. “It’s over here.”

Chris rushed over and squatted down to examine it, to make sure it was the right one, before his eyes widened as he read the price on the tag. “$900?”, he stood back up with a furrowed brow, “But you only gave me $500.” The clerk gave him a puzzled look and chuckled. 

“Um, yeah that’s how we make a profit?”, he shifted anxiously. 

“Look, I made a terrible mistake selling this. I need it back. I don’t have the money at the moment, but I will have some tomorrow. Can’t just sell it back to me for what you bought it for?”. His voice was laced with anxiety, and he could tell the pawn shop owner was now nervous.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t do that. We have very strict policies. I’ll be fired.”

Chris’ head fell as anger washed over him and he closed his eyes, trying to work through it. One of the ways he could tell the pills were wearing off was that his quick temper had returned. He didn’t like the way it controlled him when he was sober. “Thanks.”, he turned and limped back out of the pawn shop. 

He took a deep breath of cold air. He and Changbin would have dinner tomorrow, he’d ask him for a loan, and he’d fix what he’d done to his friends. 

He started walking again and his legs took him automatically to the only other place he’d been welcome for the past few months; the bar. Snow began to fall lightly and collected on the sidewalk in front of him. Maybe there, he’d be able to bury his sorrow in a different type of intoxication until tomorrow came and he could undo what he’d done. It was wishful thinking. 

  
  
  


  
  



	2. Empty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: sex tension, alcohol consumption
> 
> Chris struggles with what to do after being kicked out of his home. He drowns his sorrows at a bar, where he meets a new bartender and manages to create more issues. He has breakfast with his brother, Changbin, at their favorite diner, where Chris navigates his relationships through the merky waters of addiction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please leave a comment to tell me if you did :)

Chapter 2: Empty

The bar was nearly empty when Chris pushed open the front door and let the warm, heated air wash over his face and found a seat at the empty bar. His bones felt creaky from the cold, and he breathed hot air into his cupped hands as he waited for the bartender to turn around from inventorying the liquor supply on the wall and notice him. After a moment, he caught sight of Chris from the corner of his eye and hurriedly sat his clipboard down with an apology. 

The bartender was new; Chris knew all the bartenders there well. He was young, too young to be a bartender Chris would have thought. His lengthy, blonde dyed hair and the delicate, expensive looking necklace and rings he wore made Chris wonder why someone with enough money to afford these things would be bartending, especially on this side of town. The bar was a bright spot in a shitty location. When it had first sprung up when he was younger, his father and Changbin had talked about it being a bad business investment to put a medium to upscale bar in such a bad location, but oddly the bar had done relatively well. The reason it was doing well was not a mystery to Chan. 

You didn’t have to be poor or a degenerate to have a drug addiction or enjoy recreational drugs, drugs were harder to come by in the nicer parts of town, drugs cost money, wealthy people had money… It was no surprise that businessmen with their cell phones attached to their waists and young women with expensive tastes in clothes would find their way into the bar on the weekends with an appetite for the addictions sold both inside and out of the building. Despite the classier than expected crowd that was drawn to the bar, the bartenders usually had appearances that favored people like Chris; poor and desperate. This pretty boy, Chan thought, did not look poor or desperate. He looked at Chris expectantly. 

“Two shots, please.”, Chris glanced up at the tv that was playing a football game above the bartender's head. The bartender continued to stare at him expectantly, until he realized and tore his eyes away from the screen to meet his. The bartender shifted his eyes down to the wooden bar in front of him. 

“Of what?...”, the bartender chuckled awkwardly. Though the bar wasn’t busy, the boy spoke so timidly that Chris barely heard him. Ah, that made sense, he wouldn’t know what Chris’ usual was. 

“Sorry, two shots of whiskey please, the cheapest you have.”, Chris half smiled apologetically at him. The bartender went to grab the shot glasses from under the bar without meeting his eyes. 

“What’s your name, by the way?”, he leaned on the edge of the bar and lowered his eyes to search for a nametag. The bartender sat the glasses down and peered down at his shirt. 

“Oh.”, he spun around and scanned the floor before bending down to pick up his name tag and affixing it to his shirt, “Must have dropped it. Felix.”, he grabbed the whiskey and poured the shots. 

“Nice to meet you, Felix.”, Chris downed the first shot and waited for the second with a sigh. Felix slid the other glass across the bar to him and closed the cap on the whiskey. Chris downed that one too. Felix watched him as he slid the whiskey bottle back into it’s spot on the wall. Chris lowered his head onto his folded arms and closed his eyes. The warmth of the alcohol krept from his chest up his neck, before radiating onto his flushed face.  
Felix cleared his throat as he returned to drying cups and putting them away. Chris’ eyes shifted up to him, but he didn’t lift his head from the table. “You are?”, Felix raised his eyebrow. 

“Chris.”, he closed his eyes complacently. 

“I hope you don’t mind me saying, Chris, but you don’t look so good.”

Chris gave an amused smile with his eyes still closed. “Don’t feel so good either, Felix.”. And he didn’t. He’d taken an extra pill on top of his usual dose on his walk to the bar after being kicked out, and the pills and liquor mixed in his stomach, creating a nauseous edge he couldn’t quite overcome. 

“Maybe you sh-”, Felix began, but stopped when Chris heard the creaking of the barstool to the left of him. 

“Hi. Vodka cran, please.”, a sing-song voice asked politely. Chris lifted his head from his arms to see a pretty brunette sitting next to him. She gave him a small smile, and he returned it. He appraised her as Felix made her drink. She was slender, her long legs crossed over one another and her slim, slight curves were hugged by a fitted black dress. Black was Chris’ favorite color. Her hair fell in a soft curtain over her shoulders as she leaned onto the bar with an elbow and placed her chin delicately upon a closed fist. Chris had three addictions, now that he was thinking about it.

She took a sip from her glass and glanced over at Chris through her thick eyelashes. “It’s not polite to stare, you know.”, she smiled and ran her fingers through her hair. Chris was staring. When he drank, he was exceedingly flirtatious. Jisung hardly wanted to take him to parties in the past because he knew within the first hour of being there, Chris would be locked in a bedroom with a girl he’d just met ten minutes prior. Minho had lectured him about the dangers of sleeping around, because Minho was slightly older and had done his fair share of it in college, but while Chris respected Minho’s opinions, he just had too much fun to listen. 

“You don’t like being stared at?”, Chris raised his eyebrow at her before making a show of gliding his eyes up and down her body. She turned a pretty shade of pink and laughed. 

“I guess you’re right, I do.”, she winked over the rim of her glass and he knew he had her. 

After that, it was easy; like muscle memory. Small touches, ordering another round, leaning close to whisper something softly into her ear as she giggled at the closeness. He paid for their drinks with what was left of the money, which wasn’t much, and his eyes were focused on the girl as Felix handed him his change. He scooped it into his wallet and leaned towards her, his lips grazing against the place beneath her ear and planted a trial of kisses there, traveling downwards. She let out a shaky sigh as he kissed his way back up to her ear and began to whisper something into it before he heard a loud grunt. His head followed the sound automatically to where Felix stood behind the bar with an irritated expression on his face. 

“Can you guys take this somewhere else?”, he was counting the money from the register without giving them a look, “We’re closing up.”, he said sourly. 

“Sorry, yeah. Let’s go.”, he said to her with a smile. As he got up, he wobbled slightly before righting himself. He shook his head to clear the daze and was thankful the girl was too busy smoothing her skirt to notice he was a little more than just drunk.

They walked out of the bar and headed to where her car waited in the parallel parking spot out front. When they got in the car, they were all hands. His hands found the sides of her face and pulled her in for a harder kiss than necessary. She let out a small, surprised moan, and melted into his hands like putty. His tongue swirled in her mouth and mixed the taste of his whiskey with her vodka cranberry between them. Before he knew it, she was straddling his lap in the passenger seat and his hands were exploring her body greedily as he tried to catch his breath between kisses. Just as he had run his hand up her skirt and slipped the edges of her panties down over her hips, a loud knock on the window startled both of them out of their craze. 

“Hey!”, a guy leaned down and yelled through the window, “Who the fuck are you?!” 

By the way she scrambled to pull her underwear up and get back over the console in a hurry with anxiety painted on her face, Chris knew he was fucked. Just not in the way he’d planned.

“Get the fuck out of my girlfriends car, dude!”, the man slammed his fist onto the window again. 

Chris held his hands up. “I’m sorry, I had..d no idea!”, he spattered. He was shocked by how slurred his speech was. He was a heavy weight with alcohol. Maybe four pills was too many to be taking at once after all. The girl clicked the unlock button in a panic and the door gave way under the man’s forceful pulling. 

Chris had been in many fights throughout his life. His first fight was actually with Changbin when they were in middle school. Changbin had made fun of him for not being able to memorize the mathematical times tables, and Chris had wrestled him to the ground in anger. Changbin was older and stronger, and a swift blow to Chris’ cheekbone finished the fight as quickly as it had started, Chris clutching his face in pain. Changbin told him never to threaten him again, and of course Chris did many more times throughout their childhood, but as they grew older he began to be able to hold his own more. He never fought with Changbin anymore, because he was his best friend and best ally these days. 

Now, with his back pinned up against the girls car and the man throwing solid punches into his abdomen, he forgot all he knew about fighting. His head whirled with intoxication, and his fists wouldn’t follow his directions. He felt a sharp blow to his nose, and hot blood start to stream down over his lips.

“Hey! Guys! Break it up!”, he heard someone yell and footsteps pace quickly towards them. The man’s grip loosened on his collar. “I’m calling the cops!”. Chris glanced over from his place against the hood of the car and saw Felix standing there, wide eyed, clutching a towel in one hand and a phone in the other. He looked like a deer in headlights, like he’d never seen a fight before, and Chris wanted to laugh at his expression, but his chest hurt too badly. The man let go of him and pushed him away from the car harshly before getting in and speeding off with the girl in the driver seat. 

He stayed on all fours where he’d caught himself from being thrown for a moment, watching the blood drip from his nose to the ground. He coughed and winced at the pain that radiated through his abdomen. Felix was frozen still from his place on the sidewalk when Chris rose to his feet and wiped his hand across his nose to examine the casualties. He sighed as he watched the crimson run down his fingers. 

“Thanks.”, he said to Felix and turned to stumble down the sidewalk without looking at him. Felix said nothing.

A few blocks away, a wooden bench sat between a lamp post and a bus stop sign. Chris decided that would do for now, because walking hurt too badly, so he laid down and fell asleep astonishingly quickly for having just been beaten up. The morning came quickly, and the rising sun shined directly into his eyes, sobering him as he awoke. He couldn’t feel his nose, and a thin film of dew had collected over his legs, chilling him. As he sat up and hugged the jacket wrapped around his front closer to his core, he realized it didn’t belong to him. He peered down at it in confusion before deciding it was too small to fit him, slung it over his shoulder, and collected his backpack. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he strolled down the sidewalk. It miraculously still had some battery left, and Changbin had messaged him if they could do breakfast instead of dinner. He had heard from Jisung about what happened, and wanted to talk to him. Chris sighed and lifted his chin up with closed eyes, face to the sky, as if a silent plea to god to make the entire situation go away. After a moment, he texted Changbin back.

Chris (8:10am): I don’t know. I can’t really afford it. 

Changbin answered back immediately. 

Changbin (8:10am): I’ll pay, I just want to see my brother. 

Chris thought about refusing again, as the sting of his bruised face reminded him of the evidence of the trouble he’d been in the night before, but he needed the loan to get Minho’s necklace back and solve this bullshit situation. 

Chris (8:12am): Okay. I’m on my way to Vickey’s now. 

Changbin (8:13am): I love you.

Chris left the last message unanswered as he shoved his phone into his pocket and continued down the sidewalk towards the diner. 

Vickey’s was their favorite breakfast diner. It wasn’t that the food was particularly good, because the hashbrowns were always soggy and the coffee was always burnt, but the large wall of windows that bathed them in natural light and the sickly sweet pancake syrup reminded them of the way things used to be. He arrived before Changbin and sat down at their booth, which was unoccupied, like most of the diner, and rested his head on his arms. There was a thick covering of clouds overhead, and the usual warmth of the sun that would splay across the table between them was absent. 

“What can I get you to drink?”, a waitress clutched her notepad expectantly. Chris lifted his head from his arms and gave her a half assed, polite smile. 

“Orange juice and coffee, please.”. She nodded and left to grab the drinks. The bell on the front door clanged abruptly as Changbin entered. He removed his black coat and shook it slightly before hanging it on the hook and sliding into the seat across from Chris. 

“Hey. Did you get me coffee?”, Changbin asked as he slid into the booth. When he caught sight of Chris’ black eye and busted lip, his brow furrowed deeply. “Jesus, Chris, what the fuck?”. The waitress sat the coffee cups and silver pot in front of them. “Ah. Thank you.”, he sighed and poured himself a cup. Chris stared blankly into the glass of orange juice below his face. He wouldn’t be the one to start the conversation, because he didn’t have anything to say. He didn’t have any excuses; rare for him. 

They sat like that for a moment in silence. Changbin is the one to break the silence between them. 

“How are you?”, he asked simply. 

“How do you think I am?”, Chris sighed. Changbin took a sip of his coffee.

“Where are you staying?”, he prys, obvious concern in his voice. Chris pretended not to hear the question. “Mom and dad miss you, you know..”, Changbin continued, “and Jiyoo.” Chris winced at the mention of his niece. He missed her dearly. It was admittedly odd, having a 3 year old as a best friend, but that’s what Chris considered her. When she was born, Chris was thrilled, despite his lack of interest in children. Throughout the years, that attachment had only grown. As Chris fell further into this pit of desperate, continuous failures, and as the people he loved drew away from him, Jiyoo was there. She always understood him, no matter how incoherently his sentences strung out of his mouth at his lows. She always wanted a hug and a kiss on the cheek, no matter how his clothes smelled. She never judged him, no matter how sunken and darkened his under eyes were. She loved her uncle unconditionally, and he loved her. He missed her, and his heart wrenched as Changbin reminded him. Changbin snapped him back into reality. “You don’t have to push everyone away, you know.” 

Chris let out a harsh scoff, a smirk devoid of humor pulled at the corner of his lips. “I ruin everything I touch, Bin. I’ve disappointed enough people.”. Changbin opened his mouth to protest, but shut it when he couldn’t seem to find any words of comfort. Of course he couldn’t, because deep down, Changbin knew Chris was right. He hurt everyone he was involved with; no exceptions, no prisoners. 

“I would invite you to stay with me, but Yinjun…with Jiyoo, you know…”, he trailed off. That struck a nerve of anger in Chris that he hadn’t felt in a while. He peered across the table at Changbin in disbelief. 

“I can’t believe you think I would ever do- I can’t believe you think I would hurt Jiyoo in any way.”, he leaned towards Changbin with fire in his eyes. “I-”, tears brimmed in the corners of his eyes and threatened to spill over as he fell back into his seat, “I miss her, Bin. I would never-”. Changbin, realizing the offense in his words, held up his hands helplessly, sadness painted his face. 

“I know that, I know that.”, he soothed. “I’m sorry, she’s just protective. You have to understand…”. Chris tried to blink away the tears in his eyes, looking up at the ceiling tiles. He wanted to yell at Changbin; tell him his wife was a bitch, ask him how he dared to pick her over his brother, but he couldn’t. He knew Changbin was right. It was not unreasonable to keep your daughter away from a drugged out, hopeless thief. Chris would never allow Jiyoo to be anywhere near anyone like him. He knew Yinjun just wanted to protect her, it just hurt that it was to protect her from him.  
After a moment, Changbin checked his watch. “Do you have any money for the next few days?”, he asked as he fished his wallet out of his pocket to pay the bill. Chris had almost forgotten about the money, but now that desperate feeling returned to him. Chris shook his head no, so Changbin counted out a few bills from his wallet. 

“I want to try to buy Minho’s necklace back. Would you be able to loan me the money?”, Chris asked. Changbin paused his hands on the bills and peered up skeptically at the mention of the word loan, implying Chris would actually pay him back. He knew there was no chance of that. 

“How much?”

“$800” 

Changbin shook his head and with pursed lips continued to count the money. He pulled more money from his wallet and added that to the stack. 

“Here’s enough to buy Minho’s necklace, and a little more for food.”, his grip remained on the cash as Chris grabbed it. He paused. “Will you promise me you’ll use this to fix this with Minho and Jisung?”, implication thick in the tone of his voice. 

They had never spoken about it explicitly. Changbin had never asked him about the drugs, and Chris had never volunteered that information. It was a known fact but it was left unspoken, as if not talking about it would erase the problem. When Chris had first become addicted to the pain medication, he’d stolen Changbin’s debit card from his wallet and used it to withdraw money from the ATM. Changbin had dismissed it as a simple case of credit card theft until he found the debit card returned to his wallet. The police had shown him video footage of Chris from the ATM the next day, but when they asked if he wanted to press charges, he told them no. Chris wondered if he’d known how bad it would get in the future if he would have pressed charges or not. He’d begged for Changbin’s forgiveness and promised to pay him back, which he surprisingly did by working odd summer jobs, but the amount of money Changbin had loaned him over the course of the last 3 years had wracked up an insurmountable amount of debt to him. 

He hated being in debt to his brother. Last Christmas, Changbin’s wife, Yinjun, had been furious with Changbin. There wasn’t enough money, only enough for one small gift for Jiyoo and ham and cheese sandwiches for Christmas dinner. That’s when Changbin had come clean to her about the money he’d been lending Chris. It had driven a definite wedge in the family, and Changbin was caught in the middle of it all. 

Chris swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded vehemently. He silently vowed to stop taking money from Changbin as soon as he could become self-sufficient again, no matter the means. Changbin released the money from his grip and put his wallet back into his pocket before scooting out of the booth. 

“Start answering my texts and calls, yeah?”, he shrugged his coat onto his shoulders, “I don’t want to lose my brother.”. Chris nodded deftly, but could see in Changbin’s eyes that he knew he’d already lost too much of him. It was a mute point. Changbin pulled him into a tight hug and kissed his cheek gently. “Please go straight to the pawn shop and fix this, okay? I love you.”. Changbin left then, to go back to work at the building that started it all. 

Chris stepped out of the diner and into the cold, fiddling with the stack of money in his pocket. His mind automatically started to calculate how much he’d need for another week of pills, food, a hotel… he shook his head to clear it, like an etch-a-sketch, and turned to head towards the pawn shop down the street. 

'You have to fix this', He thought to himself as the pawn shop came into view. He quickened his pace. He was excited to have his friends back, to be on their couch again, to talk to Minho over a cup of coffee, to laugh with Jisung while playing video games. 'You have to fix this'. 

He nearly busted down the door as he hurriedly flung it open and jogged past the surprised clerk to the glass jewelry case. His eyes searched excitedly. His face fell when his eyes settled on the spot where Minho’s mother’s necklace once had set; empty.


	3. There's Blood On Your Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris goes back to the bar to drown his sorrows about his failed plan to get Minho's necklace back away and gets to know Felix a little better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the update! I hope you're enjoying it so far, I'm excited to start getting into some new character relationship building in the next few chapters! Look forward to it and write me a comment if you are willing <3 Thank you!

**Ch 3:**

****

_(I just wanted to give you some photo reference for them in the story. c: Take these <3) _

Chris sat leaned back on a park bench, letting the sun that now peaked through sparse clouds touch his face, pink from the cold and eyes shut. He breathed deeply and listened to the sounds around him. Birds chirped, children laughed and played, the wind rustled the dry leaves nestled around the bench. He tried to conjure up a happy place in his head, one that people always said you should go to when you’re overwhelmed, anything to will away the situation at hand. He sifted through memory after memory, most of them faded around the edges from the constant intoxication, until he settled on a set of the only clear memories he could find. Admittedly, they weren’t all pleasant, but they were the closest thing he had to a ‘happy place’. 

He thought of home. The children’s laughter reminded him of his youth that now seemed ever so fleeting because, despite his young age, he was tired. He rolled the wheel of the skateboard that lay attached to the front of his backpack under his finger absentmindedly. He wished he had never learned to skateboard; wished he’d never fallen in love with it. Changbin had taught him when he was 15 and Chris was 10. 

Changbin had been a bit of a bad teenager and he often hung out with the wrong crowd at one of their favorite places, the skate park, and he’d become quite good at it as he messed around with his friends. Sometimes, he would take Chris to the skate park when his friends weren’t there and would let his younger brother clutch onto his forearms as he learned to balance on the board. Of course, when Changbin discovered his interest in becoming a lawyer in mid high school, he’d straightened up significantly and distanced himself from his skate park friends. This left Chris with a hobby he once shared with his brother, and while Changbin focused on his ambitions, Chris was content to stay planted firmly where he was in life. 

Suddenly, Chris was brought out of his thoughts when a shrill screech sounded out across the playground. His eyes scanned the playground and stopped on a boy just as his back hit the ground beneath the tall slide with a loud thud, his screaming halted by the impact. Chris stood immediately and ran through the thick playground mulch to the child, abandoning his belongings on the bench. He ignored the gnawing, hot pain in his shin bone as he knelt next to the child and helped him sit up. He rubbed the boys back in circles as he sobbed and heaved, trying to regain his breath. 

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.”, he soothed, “You just had the wind knocked out of you. It’ll get better, it’s okay.”. The boys crying quieted down into a quiet whimper and he began to wipe the tears off his cheeks feverishly. 

“Honey! Are you okay?!”, a wide eyed woman ran to their place and leaned down to cup the boys face in her hands. “Are you hurt?”, she panicked. The boy struggled to form words through his tears. 

“I think he’s alright, he just had the wind knocked out of him.”, Chris stood and brushed the mulch off of his pants as she lifted the boy into her arms and turned to him. Chris gave her a polite smile. 

“Thank you so much fo-”, she began, but her face turned slightly sour as she appraised him. “Thank you.”, she abruptly turned to walk briskly away, wiping the tears from her son’s cheeks. Chris’ brow furrowed and he frowned for a moment before he caught a glimpse of himself in the shiny metal surface of the slide in his peripheral. He had forgotten how badly he looked. Below the mess of dark brown curls on her forehead, a patch of large bruises laid strewn across his left brow, eye, and cheek. A slight tear in his lip had dried and scabbed over, leaving an unfortunate, angry, red scarring there. He reached up to brush the cut on his lip with his index finger, acutely aware of the darkness below his eyes. 

“Um, sir.”, a small voice caused him to break his gaze away from his battered appearance. Above him, a girl stood at the top of the stairs clutching the bars and peeking down at him through them. He glanced left and right, to make sure she was speaking to him.

“Yes?”, he shuffled a bit closer and peered up at her. She kicked a leaf at the edge of the ledge with her toe shyly. 

“Can you help me? I’m scared.”, she pointed a small, chubby finger to the top of the slide. 

“Want me to help you slide?”. She nodded bashfully. 

“Sure. You shouldn’t be scared, slides are fun.”, he flashed her a genuine smile and went to the end of the slide. She sat at the top clutched the metal sides with a panic in her eyes as she sized up the steep slope. After a moment, she was still frozen in place, so he squatted down and extended his arms, indicating that he would catch her. “Trust me.” 

With that, she closed her eyes and released her grip, allowing herself to slide down to where Chris caught her. He spun her around once while she giggled loudly, then set her down. She beamed, proud of herself. She spun on her heel and took off running across the playground. 

“Mommy, mommy! I went on the slide!”, she was shouting with glee. 

He felt a pull in his heart and realized as tears clouded his vision that he was crying. She had trusted him, despite the way he looked or all the bad things he’d done that week. He didn’t deserve the trust. He longed to be a child again; to start over. He shook his head and wiped the ridiculous tears from the rims of his eyes and jogged over to his backpack on the bench to retrieve the pill bottle

He decided to go back to the bar that night. The bar was warm and he had plenty of money burning a hole in his pocket now that his plan to recover Minho’s mother’s necklace was dashed, so he planned on getting drunk and perhaps burying himself in another girl, preferably one without a boyfriend. When walked into the bar, Byeol, a bartneder that he’d known for a while, was working. She was already pouring his usual as he slid into the seat. 

“God, you look terrible.”, she shook her head and watched him take a drink. 

“Yeah, I got my ass kicked yesterday. Kind of a long story.”, he mumbled. 

“Oh.”, she laughed, “Felix already told me. I was in the back cleaning while you were getting your skull cracked open against some pretty lady’s car, apparently.”. She raised her eyebrow at him and leaned on the counter. “I’ve told you to be careful with the women in here. They’re up to no good 90% of the time.” 

“Why are you and Minho so obsessed with what I stick my dick in.”, he squinted and frowned, “I’m a grown man, I can handle it.” 

She guffawed and gestured to his battered face, “Well, I mean apparently not!”. She took Chris’ lack of humor in the situation as a signal to drop the topic. “Where is Minho, anyway? I haven’t seen him in a while. Actually, I haven’t seen him since Felix started.”

He was thankful for Felix’s timing, yet again, when he came through the back door with a crate of clean glasses. He heaved them up onto the counter. “Speaking of the devil!”, she patted him on the back. 

Felix noticed Chris then and his ears turned a bright red. “Oh, hey.”, he scratched the back of his head nervously. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I got the shit beat out of me last night. Can we all stop talking about my face for the night? I know I look bad.”, he sighed and finished off his first drink. The two went back to their work, Felix putting the glasses away and Byeol eventually slipped into the back room for a moment. “Thank you again, for last night.”, Chris added a few minutes later. Felix nodded and gave him a pleasant smile. As he turned to reach for another glass, his elbow hit the edge of the crate harshly and set it toppling over onto the ground. He stood there, staring helplessly at the glass covered ground, momentarily frozen. The back door burst open, Byeol and a large man (who Chris had known to be the manager, but had not bothered to learn his name) ran over to Felix. 

“Felix! Are you oka-”, Byeol started to ask as she surveyed the sea of glass below his feet. The manager interrupted her. 

“What the fuck?!”, he yelled, his face contorted in with disgust and anger, “You fucking idiot!”, he spat at Felix, who was shrinking further and further into himself, trying to make himself as small as possible. Chris felt a fire ignite within his chest, and a familiar anger began to scratch his insides. His knuckles whitened as his hands closed into fists under the bar. 

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t m-”, Felix stammered out. 

“Get the broom and clean this shit up! Now!”, he took a threatening step towards Felix and Chris shifted in his seat, ready to jump over the bar. He relaxed slightly when the manager picked up the ringing phone by the register and turned his attention away from him. Byeol shot Felix a sympathetic look as he brushed past her and returned from the back with a broom. The manager huffed around him as he tearfully cleaned up the mess.

“I’m clocking out.”, he mumbled to Byeol and sniffled as he disappeared into the back. Chris paid his tab quickly. Byeol took the money and tilted her head to the side questioningly. 

“Done already? You’ve only had two.”, she asked while stuffing the money into the register and counting out his change. Felix emerged from the back room with his head down, wearing a hat, scarf, and gloves, but strangely no coat. Chris’ eyes darted to his backpack as realization struck him. 

He grabbed the change from Byeol and picked up his backpack before leaving and jogging to meet Felix a little ways down the sidewalk. Felix jumped and spun around, slightly red, puffy eyes widening, until he realized it was Chris. “Wait! Felix!”, he called to him as he approached and slid his backpack from his shoulder. Felix stood, staring at him with inquisitive concern as he unzipped it and pulled out Felix’s jacket, extending it out to him. Felix’s eyes widened as he took it. 

“I- I didn’t think you’d know who’s it was. That’s so weird, I’m sorry, I just- I saw you on the bench on my way home because I already walk that way anyways and I just thought you looked cold so I-”, he anxiously tries to explain himself when Chris stops him by holding up his hand. 

“Thank you. I was cold.”, Chris gave him a warm smile. The blonde shrugged the coat onto his shoulders after a beat of awkward silence. Chris stuffed his hands into his pockets and gave him a nod goodnight. When he turned to walk the opposite direction, he felt a slight tug on the crook of his elbow. 

“Wait, um.”, Felix began with hesitation, “This might be weird to ask, but would you want to walk to my apartment with me? I usually don’t walk home alone this late. I usually take my bike, but this morning the tire was flat and I couldn’t take it, so…”, he trailed off. Chris smirked at his over explaining, which was cute, and contemplated it. He wondered why Felix would trust someone like him to walk him home this late. Wasn’t he the type of person Felix would be afraid of in the dark? He worried silently about his naivety before nodding in agreement, earning a smile from Felix. 

They walked together in silence for a while, Felix kicking pebbles into the road. Chris hadn’t realized how cold it had gotten until the frigid air had rid his skin of the residual toastiness from the bar’s heater. His nose began to lose feeling. He peered up at the clear sky, stars shining brightly through the city air pollution, and watched the cloud of hot breath climb towards them as he breathed in and out. 

“You skateboard?”, Felix suddenly asked, pointing at the skateboard strapped to the back of the backpack. Chris’ footsteps slowed a bit as he stared blankly at the boy. 

“Not really.” Felix seemed puzzled by that, his eyebrows knitting together, but he let the topic hang in awkward silence. “That was the manager, right? The guy?”, Chris broke the silence again. 

“Yeah.”, Felix sighed. 

“Is he always such a dick?”

“Yeah.”, he laughed this time. “Actually, all the time.” 

Chris squinted against the cold wind that began to pick up around them. “I don’t like people like that very much. I hate when people push people down for mistakes they’ve made.”, he rambled. “I have made many mistakes, and sometimes it would be nice to have some forgiveness.”. Felix nodded, but stayed silent, which made him wonder if he’d said too much. 

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m even right for this job.”, Felix kicked another pebble with his toe. Chris frowned, a sense of not belonging was not exactly new to him. “Like… I’m clumsy. I’m not good with people. I’m not charming like Byeom. So when he yells at me like that, I kind of understand where he’s coming from. I don’t know what I was thinking, taking this job.” 

“I think you’re very charming, actually.”, he smirked at the deep red blush that spread across Felix’s freckled cheeks, “Clumsy? I won’t argue with that.”, he chuckled. “If you want something bad enough, you’ll find a way to push through. Do you want to be a bartender?” 

“Hmmm,”, Felix hummed, “I don’t know. I’ve wanted to be a baker for a while, but bartending makes more and my dad got me the job, so…”.

“I loved baked foods. Brownies are my favorite.”, Chris clapped his hands together happily at the thought. A bright smile spread across Felix’s face and his eyes lit up at that. 

“Brownies are my favorite thing to make! I have perfected my recipe over time, I’ve never gotten a bad review.”, he beamed. That didn’t really surprise him. Felix could have made brownies from potting soil and he would have told him he liked them. He surmised that he had that effect on everybody. 

They reached the train tracks that ran through the center of the town and crossed over them, chatting about meaningless pleasantries, when the toe of Felix’s boot caught the raised tracks and he flew forward, catching himself on his palms. “Aw, man.”, he looked at his palms while Chris helped him up and watched the blood seep from the scuff marks. He had tears in his eyes again, and Chris noted that he seemed so sensitive emotionally, like anything could break him. He stared at Felix’s hands and imagine of his bloodied leg began to creep back into the peripheral of his mind again, like so many times before. The sound of the bone cracking, the rush of blood from the wound spilling onto the concrete around him, the way the blood looked on his hands… He grimaced and reached back into the backpack for the pill bottle, popping one in his mouth as Felix watched him with mild curiosity, wincing and holding his bloodied hands away from himself. He thought about giving him one of the pills, because it would help with the pain in his hands, but he placed the bottle back into his bag. They were too precious to give away. 

“See?”, Felix sighed, “I AM clumsy. Broken glasses at the bar, now broken freaking hands.”, he scolded himself. They continued walking across the tracks. 

“It’s okay, I’m a bit clumsy too. That’s why I don’t skateboard anymore.” 

“Why do you have a skateboard then?”

Chris thought for a moment. “Well,”, he said with a shrug, “because I want to get back into it one day. I used to skate a lot when I was younger.”. That was true. He did miss it. There were moments when he thought about trying again, because it truly was when he felt the most free and happy, but he couldn’t bring himself to step on the board again. It had caused so much damage to his life already. It was his comfort and his nightmare. 

“I wish I could skateboard. It looks fun, but I’m nervous to even ride my bike.”, Felix mused. 

“Hm. I’ll teach you, if you want.”, Chris offered before thinking about it. 

“How?”, Felix shot him a puzzled grin, flashing that smile that warmed his heart a little more every time he saw it. Felix seemed to have forgotten about his bad day at work and his scuffed up hands as they paused on he bounced in the cold wind, waiting for Chris to remove the skateboard from his backpack. He sat the skateboard down on the ground between them and held out his arms. 

“Okay, hold onto my arms and try to stand.”. Felix hesitantly wrapped his small fingers around his forearms and anxiety crept onto his face as he placed on foot on the board, rolling it back and forth to test it beneath his foot. Chris smiled at him and nodded in encouragement. Felix hopped up and got his other foot onto the board. He wavered, the board wiggling beneath his shaky, baby deer-like legs, and he gave an exasperated laugh. “That’s it. Okay, Just hold onto me and I’ll pull you. Ready?”. 

Chris began walking sideways, letting him clutch onto his arms in a desperate attempt to gain his balance under the slowly moving board. It didn’t take long before Felix had relaxed a bit and started to feel more stable. 

“Faster!”, Felix beamed. Chris sped up to a slow jog, Felix rolling beside him. “Faster!”, he shouted through his giggling. He was running now, as fast as his aching leg would allow him, spurring on the laughter from Felix. It made him feel alive again. It made him remember what it was like to feel joy; to give someone else joy too. As they slowed to a stop, laughing and Felix nearly tumbling off the skateboard, Chris found himself wondering why he’d been growing so fond of Felix. As they made their way to his apartment, he wondered again what made Felix trust someone like him to walk him home in the dark. He wondered how often Felix’s trusting nature got him hurt. 

When they arrived at the apartment building, Felix thanked him for walking him home. As Chris turned and waved over his shoulder with a “I’ll see you at the bar sometime.”, Felix stopped him again. 

“Wait!”, they both froze in place. Felix bounced on his feet and bit his lip, seemingly contemplating something. “Why don’t you come in? I’ll make you my famous brownies.”, he smiles, nervous energy all over his readable face. 

He considered saying no. It didn’t feel like when a girl would ask him to come to her place after chatting at the bar for sex. It didn’t feel like Felix’s voice was laced with some form of ulterior motive. It felt like he wanted to be friends, and that worried Chris. Felix shouldn’t be friends with people like him. 

Yet despite his better judgement, Chris nodded with a smile. “Sure, I’d love some brownies.”. 


	4. You Are My Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris takes Felix up on his offer for brownies and visits his niece for her fourth birthday party, where things go south very quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I wanted to finish chapter 3 and get it up pretty soon, since I didn't update last week. Please leave me a comment and enjoy!

Ch 4. 

Felix led him down the hallway that was dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights to the last apartment door and fiddled with his keys to unlock it. It was stuck, so he threw his shoulder into it repeatedly with a grunt. Just as Chris was about to offer his help, the door flew open and Felix toppled through it. 

“Damn door.”, he kicked the edge of it with his toe. “Come on in.”. Chris closed the door behind him, roughly shoving his shoulder into it to get it to close again, and follow Felix into the tiny apartment. It was a studio apartment that wasn’t in the best shape, but it was well taken care of and clean. It was a simple square room with a bed, a small couch, a few shelves, and a small kitchen, if you could even call it that, attached. He removed his coat and suddenly, a familiar dizziness hit him. 

He wobbled unsteadily for a moment, eyes fading in and out of focus, and he placed a hand on the wall to steady himself. “You okay?”, Felix removed his jacket with a concerned expression. After a moment, his vision came back into focus and he nodded reassuringly. “Why don’t you go sit down on the couch, I’ll start the brownies.”, Felix turned on the faucet and winced as he placed his bloodied palms under the current, “I hope I have all the ingredients.”, he mumbled happily to himself as Chris found a place to settle into the couch. 

He was beginning to have second thoughts about agreeing to go inside, but he told himself a decent shelter from the cold for a few hours wouldn’t hurt since the alternative was a park bench. The brownies would be a fine incentive, too. Felix got to working on them once he was satisfied with his clean hands and plastic gloves. 

In the corner of the room, leaned up against the wall, was an acoustic guitar. “Oh, you play guitar?”, Chris enjoyed the warmth of the apartment and made small talk while Felix mixed the ingredients.

“Hah, well, I tried to learn. I’m not very good. I can play ‘Wonder Wall’ and ‘You Are My Sunshine’, but other than that I’m kind of useless at it.”, he blushed. 

“I love music. I think if I could go back in time and choose what I wanted to do again in high school, I would have tried to become a music producer or something like that.”. He gazed around the room, examining small Knick knacks that Felix had placed throughout. His eyes settled on the low coffee table in front of him. A checkbook sat open with a pen next to it. He glanced over to see Felix humming quietly to himself as he poured the brownie batter into the pan, and decided to risk it. The top check was addressed to someone named Elizabeth Lee in the amount of $600. He flipped it to the next check, ripped it out smoothly, and placed the book back onto the table how it was. He slipped the empty check into his pocket. He would only take a little. He still had plenty from the money Changbin had lent him, but that would run out sooner than later, and he would be left desperate again. Perhaps just $20, he thought to himself. 

Felix had gotten the brownies into the oven and made his way over to the couch to settle next to Chris, sitting crisscross applesauce facing him with a pleasant smile. “What kind of music do you like?”, he asked simply. 

“Hm. I really like electronic music. I like rap, too. I like a little bit of everything. I’ve always liked harder rock...”

“Oh!”, Felix wiggled excitedly, leaning towards Chris with expectation, “Have you heard of ‘Death Lemon’, then? You must have.”

Chris was shocked he knew the band. It was popular enough, but the outward appearance of Felix didn’t scream heavy rock to him, so he was pleasantly surprised at the common interest. “I love ‘Death Lemon’! My brother took me to see one of their concerts when I was like 15. I was way too young to go, but we lied to our parents and told them we were going to spend the night at a friend’s house.”, Chris leaned his head on his hand as he reminisced. “He took me into the pit and we got pushed around and separated. I got thrown around and hit a bunch of times before he finally found me. He pulled me out by shoving people out of the way.”, he waved his arms dramatically, mimicking Changbin’s efforts. “Ah, he was such a cool brother.” 

Felix laughed at that. “Ah, so you have a history of getting yourself into fights?”, he teased him, shaking his head. Chris chucked. 

“I guess so. The difference is I didn’t fight back back then. I only started that recently. It gets me into a lot more trouble.”, he scratched the back of his head and smiled sheepishly. “Always in the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess.”

Felix hummed in response and nodded. “Yeah, I’d never win in a fight against anyone. I’m more of a lay-down-in-a-ball-and-take-it type of person.” 

“That’s not healthy.”, Chris pointed out. Felix reached out and poked the yellowing, tender bruise on his cheekbone. “Ow.” 

“Is this healthy, then?”, he smirked and dropped his hand to his lap. 

“Alright, you have a point, I guess.”, he smiled and looked into Felix’s eyes. He hadn’t noticed before, but his eyes were a rich, dark, chocolatey brown, and they sparkled beautifully even under the unflattering lighting of the room. The top buttons of his work shirt had come undone, revealing Felix’s slightly sunkissed, freckled collar bones. He couldn’t tell if it was the heat in the apartment or their close proximity to one another on the couch, but he was beginning to feel hot under the collar. After a few moments of tension, Felix tilted his head, face wrought with concern. 

“Chris.”, Felix sighed heavily, “Why did you take a check from my checkbook?”. Panic washed over him. He had stolen many times before, but he’d never been caught red handed in the act. He usually had time to think of an explanation, or at least to think of a plan to beg for forgiveness after getting what he needed, but he was caught with no time to think. 

“I didn’t take anything.”, he denied. Denial was the only course of action he could think of off the top of his head. Felix frowned. 

“I saw you take it Chris, when I was putting the brownies in the oven.”, he said in a soft tone. His face wasn’t angry as he held his hand out, waiting, and Chris couldn’t understand why he wasn’t being yelled at. After a moment of thinking of other courses of action, he came up short and pulled the blank check from his pocket to place it into Felix’s waiting hand. Felix leaned over to tuck it back behind the other checks. 

“I don’t mean to pry…”, he turned back to Chris, a genuine look of empathy on his face; like he wanted to understand him, not punish him. “... but why would you do that?”. Rage fueled beneath Chris’ skin and pooled in his chest, threatening an outburst. He was angry. He was angry because he had no goddamn excuse to give for what he’d done. He was angry that he had been trusted by Felix, all to ruin it with money again. He was angry that Felix was being so kind to him. His hands balled into fists, knuckles turning white. 

“If you don’t mean to pry, then fucking don’t!”, he spat harshly. As soon as the words came from his mouth and he saw the look on Felix’s face, wide eyed and breath quickened, he regretted it. Of course he was frightened; he had trusted Chris, a nearly complete stranger, who had come into his house and stolen from him and was now yelling at him. The raging fire within him was slowly snuffed out as he calmed down. He stood, shaking his head, and gathered his backpack and coat. 

“I should go. I’m sorry about the check and for yelling.”, he mumbled as he passed Felix, who sat frozen and wide eyed still, silent. It took him a few yanks to get the door to open, but soon he found himself jogging down the sidewalk to take him at least a few blocks from the apartment complex. He stopped at a bus stop and leaned on a nearby street lamp to catch his breath and pulled out his phone. There are a few notifications. 

The first was a text message from Changbin. 

Changbin (9:46pm): I hope you made good on your promise this morning. Did you get the necklace back? I enjoyed breakfast with you, let’s do that more often, okay? Love you.

The next was a text message from Jisung. 

Jisung (8:19pm): Hey. I hope you’re okay. I’m sitting here so worried about you. I wish things weren’t this way. I feel like such a piece of shit. I hope you have somewhere to stay tonight. I’m so sorry. 

Jisung had always been this type of person. Chris could imagine him sitting on the couch kicking himself for the decisions that he’d made in the situation, even though they were the right decisions. He doubted himself constantly, which Minho had helped him with over time, but the way he blamed himself for Chris’ issues was painful for Chris to hear. He shot him a quick text back with a frown. 

Chris (to Jisung - 12:29am): Don’t be sorry, please. I am the one who should be sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I’m like this. Please don’t worry about me. Tell Minho I’m sorry for me. 

The last notification was from a local rehabilitation program advertising discounted enrollment. At one point, he’d written his name down on some piece of paper to sign up for emails about the program when he was feeling particularly motivated to sober up and get his life back on track, but of course that streak only lasted a few hours until he was high again. He’d never opened a single email from them, opting to delete the pesky notifications as soon as they’d popped up on his screen. As soon as he saw the subject line, he sent it to his inbox trash can. 

He shivered when a particularly cold burst of wind washed over him and his teeth began to clatter together. There was no way he could spend the night outside tonight, especially without Felix’s extra jacket, so he opted to splurge on a hotel room for the night. He found a closeby motel with inexpensive rates so that he could hoard as much of the money from Changbin’s loan as possible and checked himself into a room. When he went inside, he strolled straight over to the thermostat and turned the temperature up as high as it would go before peeling off his clothes and melting into the warm stream of the shower. 

When he was done, he wiped the steamy condensation off the mirror over the sink and leaned in to appraise himself. The bruises on his face were still angry, but were beginning to yellow, and though his eye remained dark, the swelling was not as bad. He poked a finger into the space between his ribs, almost in disbelief at the lack of body mass there. 

When he was in high school, he was one of the best athletes. He worked out daily and was on the track, soccer, and swim team. He lived for the thrill of competition, especially ones where he could push his body to its limits. He loved the ache of exercise, the pure adrenaline, and finally the sense pride that washed over him when he was victorious and his father and brother would run to him to give him a hug, despite how soaked he was with pool water. 

He squinted in disgust at his body before shutting off the harsh fluorescent bathroom lights and padding over to the bed. He peered skeptically at the dingy cream colored sheets and opted to lay atop the comforter and use his jacket as a blanket instead of crawling beneath them into the questionable bedding, rationalizing to himself that it might be cleaner. He laid there for a moment before the familiar ache in his leg came into focus in his stillness. He stared at the ceiling for what seemed like hours, watching as the headlights from passing cars illuminated it and then faded away slowly. He tried to focus on it, to will away the pain, but he couldn’t escape the inevitable. He took 3 more pills from the bottle and sighed in relief as he felt the satisfying buzzing emerge in his head and the edge of the pain dampened, allowing sleep to finally take him. 

When he woke up in the morning, he felt like he’d been hit by a truck. He rubbed his stinging eyes and reached over to unplug his phone and check it. The time read 2:00pm, to his surprise, and there were multiple notifications from Changbin. 

Missed call from Changbin. 

Changbin (9:20am): Do you want to come over for Jiyoo’s birthday party? It’s at 2. 

Changbin (11:29am): Don’t worry, I already told Yin that you’d be coming, and she said it was okay as long as you stay outside where the party is. We got a bouncy castle, Jiyoo is so excited. 

Missed call from Changbin. 

Changbin (2:23pm): You coming? Please come, Jiyoo misses you.

Chris shot a quick text back to tell him that he was on his way and jumped into action, pulling on a pair of pants and shirt in record time and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He ran to the bathroom and groaned desperately at how bad his face still looked. He used some of the loan money to grab a taxi, since there was no way he’d make it in time on foot, and arrived at Changbin’s house an hour late to the party.

When he stepped out of the taxi, he could see that there were many children running and playing around and in the bouncy castle. Adults he didn’t recognize were standing around talking, watching their children to make sure they were playing nice. Changbin and Yin were bringing out plates of food and setting them on a fold out table near the bouncy castle. 

His feet stopped when his toes reached the edge of the front yard. It felt like a barrier; like he was trespassing. After a moment of standing there, Jiyoo spotted him and sprinted to him with her arms out. His face broke out into a wide smile and he caught her as she jumped carelessly towards him. 

“Uncle Chris!”, she giggled as he hugged her tightly and spun her around. 

“Princess Jiyoo! Who’s birthday is this?”, he brought his finger to his chin, pretending to wonder. 

“Mine!”, she giggled and tugged at the edges of his shirt collar. 

“Yours?! How old are you?”, he asked while feigning excitement, eyes sparkling. She contemplated that for a moment and then held up five fingers triumphantly. He chuckled and pushed her fifth finger back down, leaving four up. “Your four, sweet girl.”, he corrected her with a smile. She nodded shyly. He realized suddenly as he spotted the presents stacked neatly near the food table that he hadn’t brought her a gift. He hoped she didn’t ask why. He tickled her while she laughed, and then he spotted Yin in a quick stride across the lawn towards him, Changbin following quickly behind. She looked horrified. 

“What the hell happened to your face?”, she asked, voice full of accusation. Chris’ smile fell as she reached for Jiyoo and put her back down on the ground, encouraging her to go back to play with her friends. She grabbed Chris’ hand then, tugging at it and leaning towards the yard, trying to pull him. 

“Come play!”, she tugged at his arm. He squatted down to her level to give her a kiss on the cheek and promised to come play in a minute. She seemed content with that promise and ran off to play with her friends. When Chris turned back to her, Yin was already shaking her head in disapproval. 

“Yin, let’s not do this right now-”, his brother tried to discourage her from starting an argument, but she ignored him completely, already reeling. 

“Hey, can I ask you a question, Chris? What the fuck is wrong with you? Seriously, showing up to a kid’s birthday party with your face looking like that? Are you kidding me?”, she spat at him quickly. Changbin pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes with a loud sigh.

“Yin can we please just-”, he tried to intervene once more. She held her hand up in his face to get him to stop speaking and waited for Chris to give her an answer that would satisfy her, though they all knew that would be highly unlikely. 

“I didn’t want to miss Jiyoo’s party. I had no choice-”, Chris stammered over his words. 

“Oh don’t even give me that, you were over an hour late, Chris! You were probably partying all night.”, she continued to berate him. Chris swayed on his feet and Yin’s angry face went in and out of focus a few times while she continued her ranting. “I have an idea. Why don’t you try not getting into fights in the first place? I mean, Jesus!”. Changbin noticed that something was off when Chris’ eyes began to flutter slightly and his balance wavered a bit. 

“Wait a second Yin, I think he’s-”, Changbin took a step towards him with a concerned expression, eyebrows knitted tightly together. 

“No, Changbin, I’m so sick of his shit! You’re telling me you’re okay with him showing up to Jiyoo’s party like that?”, she gestured in disgust to Chris. 

In that moment, stars danced in his vision and his head hit the pavement with a sharp crack. When he came to, Changbin was kneeling over him, shaking him by the shoulders and calling his name. He was sprawled limply on the sidewalk and his head was aching and pulsing. His head was turned towards the front of the house, and the scene slowly came back into focus. Jiyoo was stood in front of the bouncy castle staring at him from across the yard, tears streaming down her face, screaming. 

“Uncle Chris! Uncle Chris!”, she sobbed. Yin ran to her then and lifted her into her arms to comfort her, but it did little to quiet her screams. She quickly ushered the children into the house with the help of the other parents and disappeared through the front door with Jiyoo reaching towards him over her shoulder. 

His brother shook him again. “Chris. Chris.”, he finally got him to look at him. “Are you okay?”. He sat up slowly with his help and nodded weakly. His eyes rolled into the back of his head again, threatening to bring him back to unconsciousness, but his brother shook him to keep him present. “What did you take?”

Chris looked up at his brother blankly. They had never spoken explicitly about his drug use before, the taboo topic had remained unbroached for years. 

“What did you take?”, Changbin repeated, shaking his shoulders again. The younger sat, frozen in the moment, unsure how to respond to the sudden question. He felt more vulnerable now than ever before and he struggled to come up with words. “Goddamnit, Chris!”, Changbin suddenly yelled. Chris watched as the tears spilled from his brother's eyes. He’d never seen him cry before. Guilt washed over him in waves. 

“I promise I’m okay, Bin, I promise everything’s fi-”, he tried to de escalate his brother’s panic, now a bit worried after seeing him driven to rare tears. 

“No! You do not get to do that with me!”, Changbin yelled as he stood up, towering over Chris. “No you are fucking not! You are so far from alright! You scared the shit out of Jiyoo and her friends! You scared the shit out of me!”. He was irate, and his usually even temper was nowhere to be seen. “My wife is angry with me all the time! I had barely enough money this week to give Jiyoo this fucking party! I can’t do this anymore, Chris! What the fuck are you on?!”, she shouted. 

Chris stayed where he was, leaned back on his elbows on the sidewalk, staring up at his brother. It was time to come clean. There was nothing he could do now. His eyes fluttered in defeat and, with a sigh, he made his first admission. 

“Oxycontin.”, he said planely. Changbin put his face in his hands and let out a pained groan. 

“Where are you getting them?”, he asked seriously, after he processed the bombshell. 

“The doctor stopped prescribing the Hyodrocodone to me, so I started buying them from someone.”, there were no secrets now. “They stopped working, so I started taking the Oxycontin.”. They stayed in silence and let the weight of the admission hang in the air thickly between them. Though he felt disgusted with himself, he felt a thin layer of relief beneath it all; to have the truth out in the open, to tell someone. 

After a moment, Changbin pulled his hands from his tear stained face. He looked over at Yin, who stood in the doorway with a grave expression. She gave him a small nod. He helped Chris stand then, supporting him for a moment while he regained his balance. Chris could feel the harsh thumping of his heart in the back of his aching head. His brother placed a hand on his shoulder then. 

“I think you should leave.”, he whispered. Chris nodded, agreeing that it was probably best, but the look on his brother’s face said this was more than a simple goodbye. 

“Can I say bye to Jiyoo?”, he glanced over to the doorway, where Jiyoo stood, hiding behind Yin. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

Now Chris was crying. His heart wrenched painfully as a deep sob made its way past his lips. Changbin pulled him deeply into an embrace and held him tightly. Chris felt as if this was a final goodbye; as if they were laying someone to rest for good. He sobbed into his brother's chest. After a moment, Changbin pulled back from the hug and cupped Chris’ face between his hands, staring deeply into his eyes. 

“Goodbye, Channie.” 

The use of the old, long forgotten nickname tore what part of his heart was still intact to pitiful, shredded pieces. Changbin released his face and left him on the sidewalk to disappear into the house, the front door shutting behind him. 

And with that, Chris was alone. 


	5. The End of the Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Sexual content, suicidal thoughts, assault 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please leave me a comment <3
> 
> I'm sorry for my late updates! (These are also not perfectly edited, I apologize haha.)

Ch 5 

It took him about two hours to walk back into town. He peered up at the sky through his stinging eyes to see thick, dark clouds looming above as he made his way back to the park. Thunder rolled in the distance, a faint rumble. He chose a spot under the slides to take shelter from the rain, since no children would be at the park, and leaned back against the cold metal backing. He removed the pill bottle from his bag solemnly. He counted them, noting that there were enough pills for one more day. He counted his money, too, and was shocked to find that he’d spend almost half of it already. He had enough for another week's worth of pills, two nights at a hotel, and a few meals. 

As he stuffed his wallet and the pill bottle into his pockets and the clouds now blackened the sky, blocking out all sunlight, he realized how tired he was from crying. It had been a while since he’d had a good cry, and crying made him feel like he could sleep for days. When he woke up, the sky had become truly dark from nightfall. He was surprised he’d slept for so long when he read the time, 10:15pm, on his phone with a yawn. There were no notifications. The rain left the air even more frigid than usual, and he could barely stand to sit in the cold air any longer, so he got up and tossed his backpack onto his shoulders. 

His goal wasn’t to end up at the bar, but his feet took him there anyways. He had intended on just walking to keep his body temperature up and try to keep from buying another hotel room, but when the bar came into view, he decided the warmth of the building would buy him time until closing. He made his way to the front and peered through the glass front of the bar. Felix was bartending tonight, which gave him mixed emotions. He was serving a girl and her friend at the bar, laughing and joking with them as he poured them drinks. Chris’ head began to throb again. He mentally kicked himself for how he’d treated Felix the day before, how he’d betrayed his, albeit misplaced, trust in him. His heart felt heavy as he considered that he had no friends left, not even his brother. He dug his fingernails into his palms as he watched through the window.

The blonde girl Felix was laughing with was beautiful, and he was fairly certain he’d seen her before at the bar. She had a pretty hourglass shape, long blonde hair that fell in soft waves past her hips, dressed in a pencil skirt and blue blouse. She looked fuckable, he thought. She leaned towards Felix, her elbows propping her up on the table, and he slid her drink across the bar to her with a wink. A hint of annoyance coupled with nausea bubbled in his stomach as he squinted in response to Felix’s advances. With that, his hesitation left him. He popped another pill into his mouth and waltzed inside to sit next to the girl at the bar. Felix’s smile faded as he watched Chris enter and sit. Chris didn’t look at him. 

“Well, hello.”, the girl smirked at Chris. Chris flashed a wide smile at her and ran his fingers through his brown curls. “I haven’t seen you here in awhile.”.

“Hello, long time no see.”, he watched Felix in his peripheral view, frozen behind the bar. “What are you ladies doing out on a work night?”, he mused. They giggled. It was so simple. 

“We were trying to have some fun and let off some steam from work today. What better place to do that than here?”, she gestured around them to the quiet bar and frowned. “Well, It’s usually more busy than this. I guess I haven’t been here on a weekday in a long time.” 

“Well, I’m a fun person, I’d like to think.”, Chris smirked and tilted his head, mustering up as much charm as he could manage. She blushed a bright pink and glanced at her friend with an awkward laugh. 

“Are you?”, she raised her eyebrow. 

“Yeah.”, he placed his hand gently on her bare upper thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I am.”. She bit her lip and brushed her hair behind her shoulders as she registered his touch. 

“Well this place is pretty boring, why don’t you show me how fun you are?”, she dared. Felix cleared his throat from behind the counter. 

“What would you like to drink?”, he asked him in a small, timid voice. Chris didn’t look at him, eyes still fixed on the pretty blonde. He waved his hand in dismissal. 

“Nothing, thanks. Just the check.”. He paid for the girls’ bill, which ticked off a few of the meals he would have had enough money for, but it was worth it. The girl would give him a free night somewhere, her place perhaps, and he’d get a good distraction from the horrific day he was having. When the bill was paid and she’d said her goodbyes to her friend, who gave an expectant giggle, he took her hand and let her out of the bar. She’d offered to go to his place, but he made up an excuse about having a roommate who didn’t like company and she drove them to her place. 

When they got into the apartment, they nearly attacked each other. He pinned her against the door as it slammed shut behind them, holding her wrists above her head with one hand, another hand wrapped firmly around her hourglass waist. His knee settled between her legs and he pushed it up into her heat as she ground against it, letting out breathy moans into his mouth. His tongue slipped between her lips, swirling around with her own, and he trailed his kisses down her neck, starting at her jaw line and stopping at her collarbones. His mind flashed with the image of Felix on the couch, his sun tanned, delicate collar bones peeking out from beneath his unbuttoned work shirt. He pulled back to look into her eyes and she cocked her head sideways curiously. He shook his head after a moment and moved to push her backwards towards the bedroom, which she led him to by pulling his shirt collar tightly. 

He pushed her back onto the bed and dropped to his knees between her legs. Hooking his arms around her thighs, he yanked her pencil skirt up to her waist and pulled her clothed center closed to his face. She wiggled her hips breathlessly, begging for his touch, and he obliged, using his index finger to pull her panties to the side. As he slipped his fingers into her, gently stretching her walls, he thought about a few days prior, when he’d been close to having sex with a girl in her car but ended up being beaten badly in the face. As his tongue licked her gently at first, then more firmly as her moaning became louder and her hips began to bucked against his mouth, he thought of Felix’s face when he had yelled for the man to stop beating him up; his deer in the headlights expression from seeing the blood pouring onto the concrete below him a clear image in his mind. The movement of her hips became more erratic as he pumped his fingers into her. He could feel her wetness on his face, and he paused to lift his hand and touch it to his nose before pulling it back to examine it, remembering the blood that had waterfalled from his nose in the parking lot that night. His hand shined with clear wetness, but no blood. The girl propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him, breathing heavily.

“Why’d you stop?”, she asked in a desperate voice. He released his grip on her thighs and got up to unbuckle his pants and yank them down before climbing on top of her. 

“You were about to finish, I didn’t want you to forget about me.”, he teased her entrance with himself before pushing into her till his hips met hers. She sighed and threw her head back onto the floral bedspread beneath her. She writhed beneath him, moaning his name and he quickened his pace. He groaned and felt the familiar pooling of heat in his abdomen.

“Faster!”, she cried between his insistent thrusting. That was the last straw. He thought about teaching Felix to ride his skateboard, yelling the same word with joy shining brightly on his face. His hips slowed as he felt himself softening inside of her. She looked up at him breathlessly, confusion apparent on her pouty lips. 

“I- I’m sorry.”, he suddenly pulled out of her and stepped off of the bed to pull his pants on. She sat up and ran her fingers through her disheveled hair. 

“Did I do something wrong?”, a hint of hurt was laced with the thick frustration in her tone. He buttoned his pants and pulled on his coat and backpack. 

“No, I’m sorry, It’s me. I- I’m not feeling well.”, he left her in the bedroom half naked, legs still spread, puzzled by the interaction. He closed the door to her apartment and ran down the stairwell, eager to leave the building as quickly as he could. When he exited the building, he kept running, not caring where his legs carried him. He could feel panic radiating through his chest, constricting his lungs, making it hard to breath in the harsh, cold air as he ran. Why was his mind showing him images of this stranger? Why did it constantly show him images of his accident? Why did it toy with him like a puppet on a string, torturing him day in and day out? 

When he ran out of breath, he stopped and bent over, holding onto his knees for support as he heaved for air. His leg screamed beneath him, the fiery ache rising up to radiate into his knee cap. After he’d regained some breath, he shrugged his backpack off of his shoulders and reached for the pill bottle in its usual pocket. He opened the lid and tipped it over into his open palm. Nothing fell out. It was empty. He shook it in desperate disbelief, hoping a pill would be stuck to the sides of the bottle and be shaken loose, but nothing came out. He had never forgotten. He had never run out. Pure panic stirred in his stomach as he threw the pill bottle down in anger and fished his phone out of his pocket. With trembling fingers, he dialed the phone number he’d memorized. It rang a few times before being sent to voicemail. He growled in frustration and looked at the time on his home screen. 1 am. He called a second time, a third time, a fourth time… On the fifth call, he left a voicemail. 

“Hey, It’s me, Chris. It’s an emergency. Please.”, he spewed, panic stricken into the phone before hitting the end call button. He paced back and forth, biting his fingernail, and his leg continued to demand his full attention. He swore he could feel the cold metal hardware in his leg cutting and rubbing into the inner membranes of his leg. He could feel it push against his tendons, threaten to slice open every blood vessel and leave him on the sidewalk to die. The panic continued to grow and his skin began to crawl. After what felt like an hour, he checked his phone. It had only been ten minutes. He was in full blown panic now. He opened his contact list and scanned quickly through the names for someone, anyone, who he could turn to; Jisung, Minho, his parents, Changbin… He held his shaking finger over the name for a moment and thought about calling him. He hoped his brother had not really given up on him, but doubt filled him and he exited the contacts page and slipped the phone back into his pocket. 

He started to run again, this time with purpose. It was 1:45am when he jogged to a stop in front of the bar. The ‘open’ sign was no longer illuminated, and he could see through the window that the chairs had been stacked atop the tables. He paced quickly back and forth in front of the front of the building with his thumb nail between his teeth. All he wanted was someone to talk to. He just wanted someone to bring him down from the terror he was experiencing, if that were even possible. But when he looked inside and saw Felix sweeping the floor, earbuds in his ears, singing happily to himself, he decided he couldn’t. No, not Felix, the sweet stranger who offered him his coat and to make him brownies. He couldn’t ruin someone as kind as him, too, on top of everyone else he’d hurt. He turned away from the bar. 

Just as he was about to round the corner, he heard a voice call out to him. 

“Hey! Chris!”, he turned back to see Felix standing on the sidewalk, an earbud in one hand and his other holding the bar door open. “What are you doing?”, he shouted out to him. Chris didn’t answer and instead suddenly bent in half, catching his palms on his knees for support as he vomited onto the sidewalk. “Oh my god.”, he let go of the bar door and jogged over to him. “Are you okay?”

Chris reached out, still doubled over, and clutched Felix’s arm weakly. Felix gave him a look of shock and concern. “Come on, let’s go inside I’ll get you some water.”. 

Chris shook his head in protest and tried to refuse Felix’s help through his panting, but Felix was already pulling him down the sidewalk and into the bar. He yanked the nearest stool off of a table top and sat it down to shove Chris gently down onto it. He left Chris in his momentary panic and quickly returned with a wet wash rag, which he patted on the back of his clammy, sweaty neck, and shoved the water glass into his hands. He sat bent at the middle, staring down at the ground, the water rippled in the glass between his violently shaking hands as his mind continued to real. Felix’s gentle pat of the wash rag seemed to take a bit of the edge off, but not nearly enough. His leg continued to shock him, shooting pains striking up to his kneecaps. 

“Chris.”, he felt the glass leave his hands and Felix came into view as he squatted down in front of his knees and peered up at him. When Chris gave no response, Felix placed his hand on his forearm and squeezed it gently. “Hey. What’s wrong?” . His face was full of worry and confusion; almost agony. 

Chris spilled his guts like word vomit. 

“I- I went home with that girl from the bar earlier and w-we were having sex and I started to feel really sick so I left and t-then my leg started hurting but I ran out of pain killers and I didn’t r-realize and I know I have a problem with the pills I k-know but I can’t stop because it hurts so bad and I’d do anything to stop the pain and I c-can’t get a hold of the person who usually sells them to me and I g-guess I just was so distracted with Changbin and my friends and you these last few days that I forgot and ran out and I-I … I-”, he spewed with desperate eyes on Felix, rocking back and forth, doubled over in his chair. 

Felix made a funny face for a moment, but Chris couldn’t remember what he’d said to get that reaction. His mind was a runaway train. The look on Felix’s face quickly returned back to worry, though, laced with a hefty dose of what seemed like indecision. While Chris battled with the pain in his leg, it seemed like Felix was having his own internal struggle, kneeling there in front of him. By then, Chris’ heavy breathing had turned into light sobs, wrenching at Felix’s heart. He dropped his head with a resigned sigh. 

“I…”, Felix began, hesitation thick in his tone, “I have some leftover pain killers from my knee surgery last year.”. Chris’ hands shot up quickly and pressed together in a prayer motion. 

“Please, Felix. Please. I’ll do anything.”, he begged. After a moment, Felix nodded with a frown and stood to take Chris’ hand and lead him out of the bar. On the walk to Felix’s apartment, Chris clung harshly to his hand, as if it were a buoy in a stormy sea. 

When they arrived at his apartment and Felix sat Chris down on the couch, there was something in his eyes Chris couldn't identify. His eyebrows were knitted together, and his eyes were glazed over in thought. It made Chris anxious. The way he paused briefly in front of Chris before turning to go to the kitchen medicine cabinet sent a panic through him.

Felix slowly opened the medicine cabinet and peered inside. He shifted bottles around for a few moments before shutting it quietly and taking a pause to stare at the closed cabinet. He wouldn’t turn and face Chris. Chris’ leg jiggled frantically as he waited for Felix to give him the medication. 

“I guess... I must have thrown them away. I don’t think I have them anymore.”, he said, so quietly that Chris could barely hear him. No. Chris stood up quickly from the couch and crossed the kitchen to Felix quickly. 

“Let me look.”, he demanded. Felix didn’t look him in the eyes. He was a bad liar, and Chris could tell. He shook his head in meek refusal. Inside of him, Chris’ mind was telling him that this was the wrong thing to do. He didn’t want to rummage through a near-stranger’s medicine cabinet. He didn’t want to overstep clear boundaries. But as the fire in his leg continues to rage on, he couldn’t stop his body from gently pushing Felix out of the way and opening the cabinet to look for himself. He shuffled through the bottles quickly, reading each label before tossing it to the side, making a complete mess. He was frantic, bottle after bottle yielding nothing but basic antiinflammatories and cough medicine. When he came to the last bottle and read the label for allergy medication, he threw it harshly back into the cabinet before slamming it shut harshly and turning to Felix, who had now backed himself into the back corner of the kitchen, fear apparent in his eyes. He took a step towards Felix, who winced back into the corner. 

“You have it, don’t you?”, he took another step towards him. Felix shook his head violently in denial, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. “Felix. Please give me the pills.”. It was not a request, it was a demand. He continued to slowly advance towards Felix until his chest was nearly touching his own. “Now.” 

“I s-swear I-I don’t have them-”, Felix whispered and turned his head to the side, trying to make himself as small as possible and shrink into the corner as far as he could. He was interrupted by Chris’ hands wrapping around his wrists tightly and yanking them up to pin them against the wall above his head. He cried out in pain as his wrists bent unnaturally against Chris’ hold. He writhed beneath Chris’ hands as they searched every pocket on his body and roamed anxiously under his shirt, looking for anywhere he could be hiding them. He cried out when Chris’ hand slipped around the back of his waistband and found the pill bottle tucked between the small of his back and the elastic of his boxers. Chris felt an immediate rush of relief as he pulled the pill bottle out of Felix’s pants line and read the label. Hydrocodone. He immediately released Felix’s wrists, who slid weakly down the wall and curled up on the ground, tears streaming down his face, heavy sobbing echoing off the kitchen counters. Chris ripped the lid off the bottle and poured an unknown number of the pills into his mouth. He slipped the bottle into his pocket and leaned against the wall opposite of Felix to slide down to the ground as well. He leaned his head back against the wall and looked at Felix through hooded eyes. 

“I’m so, so sorry.”, he slurred as the familiar wave of descent began to wash over him. He could still hear Felix sobbing as he faded out of consciousness. 

The last thing he could remember was the pitch blackness that overtook him. It was heavy, dark, and sultry. It left him pain free, euphoric, but most of all, it left him with nothingness. That was what he craved the most; the lack of sensation, thought, and emotion. He allowed himself to fall into that abyss, and welcomed the darkness with open arms. He hadn’t realized he’d passed out until a loud pounding on the door woke him slightly. His head lulled to the side when he heard a familiar voice. 

“Are you Felix?”, he heard his brother ask in a frantic tone. He sounded out of breath. When his vision began to come into focus, he could see Felix standing at the door. Felix nodded and peered back at Chris over his shoulder. “Where is he?”. Felix stepped back against the wall again to let Changbin into the apartment. Chris’ brow furrowed in extreme confusion when his brother's face came into view. Changbin held up his cellphone and gestured to Felix. “He called me. What the fuck, Chris? You’re robbing people now?”, he spat. He then noticed that Felix was clutching Chris’ own phone to his chest tightly. He weakly pawed at his pockets and confirmed that his phone was missing from them. Felix didn’t look scared anymore. His facial expression was one of absolute pity. Chris hated Felix, and he hated himself for what he’d done. 

Felix spoke up, still looking down at the ground. “I just looked at your contacts, and he was in your most recent texts as your brother, so I just…”, he trailed off quietly. 

“He called me instead of the cops, you lucky fucking bastard.”, Changbin nearly shouted down at Chris. He bent down to grab him by his collar and yank him to his feet. Chris’ legs felt like jello beneath him, and Changbin was doing little to help him keep upright. He felt Changbin’s hand reach into his pocket and pull the pill bottle out. He tossed it to Felix, still gripped onto Chris’ collar. “Thanks for the call, I’m sorry.”, Changbin muttered quietly to Felix as he yanked Chris’ through the door. Chris’ hand caught the door frame as tightly as he could manage, stopping Changbin in his tracks. He leaned down to look into Felix’s eyes with the most sincerity he could muster in his altered state. 

“I am sorry.”, he sighed. Felix wouldn’t look him in the eye as he handed him his phone back. Changbin yanked him hard and pulled him the rest of the way through the door, leaving Felix alone in his apartment. 

The car ride was everything Chris didn’t want at the moment. It was one long, constant string of lecturing. He soaked it in, letting it saturate his soul in shame. He deserved this, and he knew it. He was only half listening, but the words hurt all the same. He thought about how he ruined everything and everyone he touched. He thought about how much it would improve the lives of those around him if he were to leave. He thought about ways he could leave. Permanently. It was only when he saw a familiar billboard, signalling that they were leaving town, that he started paying attention. Changbin must have noticed the change in the atmosphere, because when Chris shot a look over to him in the driver's seat, he looked the most tense he’d ever seen him. 

“Changbin… where are we going?”, he asked carefully. His brother didn’t answer. Chris turned his attention back to the passing street signs, looking for the answers himself, when he saw it; the welcome sign for Pineville. His heart began to race automatically. There was only two reasons anyone would go to the small town of Pineville; either they were passing through, or they had a serious problem. Pineville rehabilitation center. Realization washed over Chris and hit him like a ton of bricks. His whole body whipped around in his seat to face Changbin. 

“Are you taking me to rehab?”, he shrieked in anger. His hands searched for the seatbelt clasp to undo his buckle. 

“Listen, Chan, you just tried to rob someone for drugs. You cannot live like this anymore, brother. You need serious, serious help.”, Changbin lamented, pain and a hint of regret twisted in his face as he tried to concentrate on the road ahead. “Who even was that guy?”.

He shook his head in disbelief, ignoring his brother’s questions as he undid the seatbelt clasp with shaky, anxiety stricken hands. 

“No, no, no. I am not going to rehab. I promise I’ll fix this.”, Chris was speaking so quickly Changbin was having issues keeping up. “I’ll go back and tell Felix I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to him.”, but Changbin was already shaking his head no. 

“Put your seatbelt back on.”, he sighed. 

Chris ignored him again. “Look I know that I fucked up, really badly. I know. But I will stop the drugs I promise. I can do it. I will get a job, I’ll pay you back everything I owe you, I’ll be a good brother and a good uncle to J-”, he stammered over his words frantically. 

“Put your seatbelt on, Chris.”, Changbin just repeated more firmly. 

“No! I’m not putting my fucking seatbelt back on! Take me home! Please! I need to get more-”, he couldn’t stop the words before they came out of his mouth. His brother’s face was filled with utter shock and disbelief at the words. Chris sunk back into his seat, in disbelief of himself as well. He was thinking about drugs, even now, as his life was being ripped away from him. 

He buckled his seatbelt back into place with a click and let his threatening tears fall as he watched Pineville Rehab Center, that he’d only seen in pamphlets and emails, come slowly into view. 


	6. Leave No Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: cursing, nothing major

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a more positive chapter. Finally! I've been hoping Chris could catch a break in my story. Just let the man live!
> 
> Please leave me a comment and let me know if you like the story so far! <3

Ch 6 

(3 months later)

Chris leaned back in the blue, too-plush chair and picked at the skin around his thumb nail, the only sound in the room the repetitive ticking of the grandfather clock that sat on the far side of the room. He winced as he pulled a little too roughly at the skin with his nail and watched a bead of blood pool from the small wound. 

“Hm.”, the bright blonde, tidy manager of the clinic flipped through the documents in the tan folder in front of her, nodding to herself. “You’ve made a great amount of progress, Chris.”. She studied the papers for a bit longer and blindly reached over to take the lid off and reach into a jar filled to the top with golden sobriety chips. She fished one out and sat it on the table in front of him while she flipped to the next page with a nod. “Your therapist says he thinks you’ve shown a remarkable change.”. 

He silently plucked the chip from the desk and turned it between his fingers with passivity, waiting for her to continue. He didn’t talk much anymore, unless it was what he thought the doctors wanted to hear, and right now he wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say so he kept quiet. After a moment, she looked up at him from the papers and lifted her eyebrows in question. 

“Well?”, she pushed with a smile.

“Um… yes I think I’ve made progress.”, he looked up from the golden three month chip in his hand. “Of course, I still continue to struggle…”, he admitted with a shrug. “But I’m in a much better place now.”

She smiled and gave him a nod, neatly arranging the papers and closing the folder in front of her. She clasped her hands together and sat them atop the folder. “What would you say if I suggested you were ready to go home?”. 

Chris’ brow furrowed. Home. He hadn’t been allowed to speak to any of his family members or friends. He hadn’t wanted to speak to Changbin at first, but he found himself missing him desperately after a week of being at the clinic. He’d never gone more than a few day without speaking to his brother. When he’d asked to call him, the therapist told him he needed to focus more on himself. It just made him feel even more guilty. It had been three months now, and he was sure Changbin’s life was probably much less stressful without him in it. Home? He wasn’t sure he had one of those anymore. He wasn’t sure Changbin would want him in his life anymore. He wouldn’t if he were him. 

The only thing scarier than contemplating his homelessness was contemplating staying in the clinic for any longer than he needed to. He was itching to get out of there. He couldn’t explain it in perfect words, but the thick, white plaster walls made him feel claustrophobic and everyone who came in to seek treatment filled the atmosphere with hostility and fear. He was thankful for the help with the addiction, of course, and he wasn’t necessarily 100% confident in his ability to stay sober on his own, but anything felt like an improvement over the clinic at this point. His furrowed brow smoothed over quickly as he realized he needed to tell her what she needed to hear to let him leave. 

“I would say I was nervous, but optimistic.”, he gave her his most convincing smile, which wasn’t much. She beamed back at him, teeth white and perfectly straight. 

“Well. As you know, the support groups and therapists are always here for you in the future if you should find yourself in need of a little extra support.”, she stood from her chair and strolled around the desk to lean back against it in front of him with folded arms. “And you’ve got your sponsor. Don’t forget about that asset.”. 

Chris’ sponsor was a guy who was a model Pineville Rehab client. He was two years sober, and he attended every support group meeting and event the center through during Chris’ time there. Chris liked him decently, but he wasn’t sure he’d want to lean on him very much in his recovery going forward. He wanted to do this himself. If someone helped him through it, it would feel less like a victory and more like a painfully slow process; like watching paint dry. Despite his feelings on this, he decided to nod and smile in acknowledgement. 

“Well, it’s been a pleasure having you, Chris. Really. I know you had a really hard time at the beginning, that’s perfectly natural, but look at you know!”, she gestured broadly towards his seated body. He looked down at the white polo and khaki shorts uniform he’d lived in for the past 3 months and then back up at her. He wasn’t sure exactly what she meant by that, but he did feel a lot better compared to the first few weeks of treatment. “I know you’ll have a great future with many years of sobriety.”. 

She nodded again, looking decided, and reached over the desk to pull the desk phone over to them, placing it next to her hip. “Do you want to call your contact or should I?”, she opened the folder to find the contact on the first page and picked up the phone, ready to dial. 

Call Changbin? He wanted to speak to him with this new, clearer mind. He really was doing better, when he thought about it. He was swimming in the center pool, getting some of his muscle tone back. He was eating well, sleeping well, and the dark circles under his eyes and bruising to his face were completely gone, the only thing left being a small scar on his lip, a gentle reminder of what drugs had done to him. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see his brother. When it came down to it, though, he couldn’t bring himself to make the call. 

“Would you mind calling? I’m a bit nervous.”, he chuckled and brought his hand to the back of his neck. She nodded in understanding and dialed the number. “I’m sorry.”, he added. 

“That’s pretty common. Don’t worry about it.”, she smiled down at him and listened as the phone rang, pressed to her ear. He could hear the familiar even tone of Changbin’s voice on the other line increase in pitch a bit when the manager told him of her plan to send Chris home that day. “Alright, we will see you soon then! Bye bye.”, she placed the phone back onto the receiver with a smile. 

When Changbin pulls around to the entrance and gets out of the car, he’s absolutely beaming. It’s a melancholy moment. As Changbin closed the door and circled around the front of the car to trot over to Chris happily, arms extended, two halves of Chris’ heart pulled at a middle seam. One half was warmed by his brother’s love for him and the happiness he felt being reunited with him after the long months, but the other half was tender and painful, filled with the numerous regrets he had about the way he’d treated his brother over the past few years. He wasn’t sure he deserved this warm welcome, but he let Changbin pull him into a firm hug willingly.. Chris buried his face into his brother’s neck, taking in the familiar smell of home. 

“I missed you so much, Chan.”, he choked as he held Chris in his arms tightly. He squeezed his older brother even tighter. 

“I love you.” Chris mumbled into his brother's shoulder. He meant it. 

On the drive home, Changbin caught him up on the details of the few months he’d missed. The stories were simple, but they were what he needed to hear the most right now. He asked him how Jiyoo was and Changbin gave a loud laugh as he thought about her recent developments. Apparently, she’d just started to learn to write hangul and had decided rather suddenly that she wanted to become a master chef when she grew up. They laughed together about her future plans. They talked about Changbin’s new project at work and how his boss had been rather hard on him lately, but he was managing. They talked about how long the last three months had felt. Then, Chris asked something that put them both in awkward silence. 

“How’s Felix?”, he asked simply, staring out the window at the passing buildings. It was quiet for a moment and he wanted to put his foot in his mouth. Why would he ask that?

“Uh… you mean that guy who called the cops on you?”, Changbin gave him a puzzled look. “How am I supposed to know? I haven’t spoken to him since…”, he trailed off and then shook the thought from his mind. “I thought you guys didn’t know each other that well, anyways?” 

Changbin was right, he thought. He didn’t really know Felix at all. He’d only spent time with him twice outside of the bar, both times in which he’d tried to steal from him, the second time in which he’d assaulted him for hidden pain medication. He didn’t know him at all, and for some reason he had been on his mind ever since the day he had started going to the rehab center. He just wanted to know he was okay and that he hadn’t traumatized him too badly. He wanted to apologize again. He decided to change the subject. 

“Minho and Jisung?”, he asked with a hint of hesitation. “How are they doing?”

Changbin smiled brightly at that. “Actually, they can’t wait to see you. They miss you.”. Chris smiled half heartedly at that, feeling the same melancholy in the pit of his stomach. “Especially Jisung. He misses his best friend. He has missed you for a while…” 

“Yeah.”, Chris sighed, “I know what I did is unforgivable. I wouldn’t blame Minho if he never spoke to me again…”

“Oh, no. He misses you too. You know him, he’s just a lot less animated with his feelings than Jisung… I actually think he might blame himself somewhat for everything that happened.”, he admitted, his voice a sullen tone. That made Chris feel even more like dog shit than he already did. The last thing he wanted was for Minho to think he’d done anything wrong. He punished himself in his own thoughts as they made their way down the road. 

When they pulled into the driveway at Changbin’s house, the sun was starting to set. His brother turned the car off and looked over at him questioningly as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “Chan? You comin’?” 

Chris was staring straight ahead at the garage doors with a blank expression. He hadn’t thought about the destination Changbin might be taking him until they rounded the corner to his subdivision. The feeling of fear about not having a home to go back to had been pushed into the back of his mind for the hour long car ride, but now it was back in full swing. 

“Am I allowed inside?”, he whispered. Changbin reached over and placed his hand on the top of his dark brown curls. 

“Always.”, he simply stated. 

When they went inside the front door, it was like he had stepped into a new, unfamiliar but not unpleasant, life. Yinjun pulled him in for a warm hug with a genuine smile, a shell shock to his system, and Jiyoo came sprinting from the hallway to greet him in the doorway. She lept upwards and he barely had the reaction time to reach out and catch her in his arms with a surprised chuckle. She hugged onto his neck tight and giggled. He took the time to hold her close, memorizing the feeling of having a family just in case this was all just a dream he’d wake up from in his stiff bed at Pineville. He shoved away the thought as Jiyoo pulled back to look at his face. 

“I missed you Uncle C.”, she smiled brightly, the universe reflecting back at him in her big brown eyes. “Wanna see the princess castle daddy got me?”. He could tell it was a rhetorical question, so he feigned excitement and insisted she show him immediately. After she had spent a few minutes showing him her doll house and handing him each of her dolls to hold as she explained their names to him, half of them named Barbie and half of them named Lucy, the doorbell rang and it was Jisung and Minho. 

Jisung advanced towards him to tell him he missed him and gave him a big bearhug in very Jisung-fashion. Minho stood behind him timidly, a hesitant but comforting smile on his lips. When Jisung had finished squeezing the breath of him, he reached out to gently take Minho’s forearm and pull him into a hug. 

“Minho.”, he held him firmly in his arms, “I’m terribly, terribly sorry. You will never know how sorry I am. I’m so sorry.”, he sighed into the hair atop his friend’s head. Minho squeezed him tighter, his silent but sincere acceptance of the apology. 

Everyone settled down for dinner at the family large family table and passed around bowls of mashed potatoes and exchanged stories of their childhood friendships. Jiyoo got in trouble for playing with her food and cried for a moment, but all was remedied when Chris put a dot of mashed potato on his nose and pretended he didn’t know it was there, making her laugh. It felt like family, something he had long forgotten the feeling of. Jisung waited until there was a lull in the conversation to bring it up. 

“So, Chris.”, he started cautiously. He took a sip of his water and then crossed his hands in his lap. Chris chewed on his mouthful of chicken and cocked his head sideways, ready for the question. “Minho and I have decided… to invite you back into our home.”. 

Chris almost choked on the food in his mouth and tried to swallow it down in shock. Invite him back into their home? After what he’d done? His eyes darted immediately to Minho, who he was sure would not be on board with this, because who would be given the circumstance, but Minho’s eyes were soft and his smile was genuine and warm. He gave him a small nod of encouragement as he spoke up. 

“I know you weren’t acting as yourself. I know you, Chris. I know that wasn’t you. I’m prepared to let you back into my life, no hesitation.”, he placed a sincere hand over his heart. 

Jisung wrapped his arm around Minho’s shoulder and smiled brightly. “Yeah, what he said.”. Chris teared up in disbelief, moved by his friends’ willingness to forgive him despite his lack of deserving, and thanked them. 

The rest of dinner was normal, friendly, and generally happy. It was everything he’d dreamed of. It was simple. After saying his goodbyes to Changbin and Yinjun, as well as a goodbye to Jiyoo’s Barbies and Lucys, he rode home with Minho and Jisung in their car. 

When they got home and climbed out from their seats in the car, Chris spoke up. 

“Um. I would really like to visit a friend, if that’s okay.” He could see the concern rip across his friends faces as they froze in their tracks. “I know it’s a lot to ask for you to trust me, and I know this sounds suspicious, but I need to tell this person that I’m sorry. It’s all I’ve been thinking about while in recovery, and It’s going to eat me alive until I can do it.”, he almost whispers. For a while, everyone stood silently in what seemed like an immovable stalemate, but just as he was about to give up, Minho held the car keys out towards him with a nervous look on his face. He peered at the keys and back at Minho in disbelief at the display of trust. 

“Please drive safely. Don’t be out too late.”, he reached down to grab Chris’ limp hand and pressed the car keys into them. “Please.”, he repeated. Jisung’s face said that he wasn’t completely on board with the idea, but he wasn’t going to argue with Minho about it. He knew better. 

“Thank you.”, he clutched the keys in his hand and opened up the drivers side door to climb inside. He paused to look at Minho before shutting it behind him. “So much.” 

The drive felt so strange. He hadn’t been alone in three months. He hadn’t driven a car in over a year. But as he neared the bar, those considerations about his past life faded away, overtaken by sudden anxiety about what he was about to do. He parallel parked in front of the bar, which was nearly empty, and went inside. Someone he’d not seen before was behind the bar cleaning glasses when he walked up. 

“What can I get ya?”, she asked politely. 

“Oh, nothing thank you. I’m actually just wondering if Felix is working tonight?”, his eyes scanned around the bar, but didn't see any other employees. When his eyes fell back to the bartender, she looked confused. 

“Ummm… one second.”, she sat the glass she was cleaning down on the counter and disappeared through the employees door. When she returns, the asshole manager is with her. 

“You here askin’ for Felix?”, he asked in a condescending tone. Chris nodded. He let out a throaty laugh. “Well, don’t know where you’ve been buddy, but he doesn’t work here anymore. He got the place broken into a few months ago. Guys stole half our fucking liqour and took the cash register. They just took the whole fucking thing with them. Fucking idiot.”, he rambled. Chris’ fists were balled up at his sides, but his sober mind was much better at holding himself back than his usual self. He took a deep breath.

“Okay. Can I have his number, then?”, he tapped his foot impatiently. 

“No, I can’t give out employees numbers.”, he was half listening as he turned to the bartender and started ordering her around. 

“He’s not your employee anymore.”

“Even ex employees. Get lost.”, he waved his hand towards him to shoo him away. The bartender looked intimidated under his loud command. Chris gave up and turned on his heel to leave. “Hey!”, the manager called after him loudly. Chris stopped with his hand on the door. “If you see that little shit stain, tell him he still owes me for the liquor!”.

Chris pushed the door open and turned to look over his shoulder at the manager.

“Fuck you.”, he spat. 

He sped off, still fuming but starting to settle down with the quiet hum of the car engine surrounding him. He headed towards Felix’s apartment. He had a hard time remembering which building and apartment number it was. He wracked through the fragmented, drug hazed memories of the two nights he’d been there and figured it out as he pulled into a parking spot. He turned the engine off and sat for a moment, contemplating if it was a good idea to be doing this, but he knew the longer he waited the more it would eat him alive. He just wanted to say he was sorry. He didn’t want to be friends. He didn’t expect Felix to forgive him. He just had to at least say it to his face, 100% sober. He got out of the car and made his way up the stairs of the apartment building. When he got to the door, he had to stand there for a moment and stare at the rusty numbers that were pinned to it. Apartment 23. Was it apartment 23 or apartment 22? Was this even the right building? As he stood in deep contemplation, he heard someone come out of the apartment two doors to the right and turned his head towards the noise. 

It was two blonde guys. One was tall, slender, with blonde hair to his shoulders. He was dressed in a fancy looking tan pea coat and slacks, Chris thought too fancy to live in this part of town. The other was Felix. Chris froze in place as he watched Felix lock the door behind him and the two started to walk down the hallway laughing with each other. When Felix noticed someone standing in the hallway, he looked up to see Chris there and his smile faded immediately, his feet slowing beneath him to a stop. 

“W...What are you doing here?”, his voice was an even mix of anger, fear, and worry. Chris imaged if he could see his own face, it probably looked much the same. The tall blonde behind Felix looked at him, puzzled. It took Chris’ mouth a moment to work. 

“I came to say I’m sorry to you.”. Felix was already shaking his head ‘no’ and holding his hand up to stop him before his sentence was finished. 

“I don’t need your apologies. If you’ve come to look through my drug cabinet, don’t bother. I cleaned it out as soon as you left with your brother.”, he was clearly very angry. He had a right to be. The anger in his face faltered a bit, replaced by a deep sadness that hurt Chris’ heart. “Just…”, he sighed, “Just get out of here, please.”. The other blonde looked back and forth between them, trying to follow the argument. 

“Felix, please let me speak with you for a moment.”, he pleaded and took a step towards him. Felix shuffled back a few steps in response. “I went to rehab. I’ve been there for three months. I’m sober. I wanted to come tell you that I’m sorry because I’m lucid and mean it right now.”, his voice was low, needy, and utterly desperate. 

Felix face softened into something like empathy at the mention of rehab, but rehardened after only a moment. “I don’t give a shit if you went to rehab. Just leave me alone.”

Chris could feel the tears threatening at the corners of his eyes. He didn’t want to cry. He wanted to get this out. The more he tried not to cry, the more the tears filled his eyes and threatened to spill over. “Please.”, he blinked, a few tears fell down his cheeks. 

Felix was entirely confused. He threw his hands up in frustration. “What the fuck do you want from me, Chris?! Seriously! What do you want?!”, he yelled and his harsh words echoed off the narrow, dismal hallway. 

“Woah, woah, woah.”, the taller blonde stepped forward to break up the tension, probably suspecting a fight with how explosive Felix had suddenly become, but Felix stuck his hand out firmly into the taller blondes chest and pushed him back to his spot behind him, eyes still locked on Chris.

“No, Hyunjin. I want to hear this.”, he seethed. “What do you want?”, he repeated lowly at Chris. 

If he were honest, he wasn’t sure what had come over him. He’d gotten out of his car with a very clear mission; he just wanted to apologize. If Felix wanted to accept it, that would be nice, but he had fully expected him to refuse his apology. So why, when Felix had acted in the most predictable way, did he feel like his heart was breaking? 

After a moment, he closed his eyes and sighed, ready to concede. “I don’t want to leave this world without righting my many… many wrongs. This was a big wrong...”, he opened his eyes to look at Felix again, who stood with his still stretched out in front of Hyunjin, brows furrowed as he listened to his explanation. “to someone who definitely didn’t deserve it.”, Felix’s eyes stared deeply into his and the anger was still there, but beneath it, something softer stirred to the surface. He continued to be honest, because he had nothing else to lose. “I thought about you every day in rehab because the guilt was eating me alive. I came to apologize to you. I’ve done that. I’ll leave you alone now. I’m so sorry.”

Though it wasn’t completely satisfying because his apology wasn’t accepted, he did feel some weight lift from his shoulders. It was one of the last pieces of emotional baggage he hadn’t even talked to his therapist about in treatment because of his deep shame. Maybe now that he had apologized, he could begin to move on. He turned to walk away. 

“Wait!”, he heard Felix shout loudly from his place behind him. He turned back and looked at him questioningly. Anxiety crept in his chest, but also a sense of probably misplaced hope. Felix looked like he was contemplating something. 

“Wait?”, Hyunjin whispered anxiously at him as he started to walk down the hallway towards Chris, “What do you mean ‘wait’?! Felix!”, he whisper-shouted after him. Felix ignored him and made his way down the hallway to stop a few feet in front of a surprised Chris. 

His face was entirely softened now; gentle and empathetic. 

“How are you?”, he asked in a quiet voice, contrasting his anger seconds ago. Chris thought about answering him like he answered his therapist. He thought about saying ‘I’m fine.’ or ‘I’m doing much better’ or any of the other generic statements he could pull from his often used list of conversational pleasantries, but in that moment he couldn’t bring himself to lie. 

“I’m struggling.”, he admitted, eyes to the floor now. “But, I think I’m okay.” There was a bit of silence that hung between them for a moment, no one sure what to say. Felix peered back over his shoulder at Hyunjin, who stood there like an awkward, unaware turtle, then back to Chris. 

“Do you have your phone?”, Felix suddenly asked. Chris shook his head. 

“No, they took it at the rehab.”. He wondered where it was. Maybe Changbin had it? Felix reached into the messenger bag he had slung over his shoulder and pulled out a pen before stepping forward and hesitantly reaching out to lift Chris’ hand, palm up. As he scribbled something messily onto his palm, Chris couldn’t help but become lost in the electricity that shot up his arm from Felix’s fingers’ light touches. When he was done, he capped the pen and put it back into his bag, letting go of Chris’ hand. 

“I have plans right now, but…”, he looked up at him, “call me later, okay? I’m really glad you’re okay.” Chris nodded numbly and Felix began to walk back to Hyunjin, who waited impatiently at the other end of the hallway. He held his open palm in front of his chest to look at the numbers Felix had scrawled there in dark blue ink. A thought hit him then. 

“Wait!”, he called after Felix. Felix turned back and cocked his head to the side in question. Hyunjin looked annoyed. “Um. Did I get you fired from the bar?”, he frowned. 

A smile spread across Felix’s pretty lips. “Yeah, you did. Remind me to thank you for that later.”, he chucked and continued down the hall towards Hyunjin. 

“What the fuck was that about, dude?”, Hyunjin held his hands up, frustrated by the lack of insider information. Felix just laughed and wrapped his arm around his friends’ to lead him to the stairwell door. 


	7. Third Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: A little bit of a ~spicy~ chapter. A little bit of sexual content, though nothing major!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my story! Please leave me a comment and tell me what you thought of this chapter. It was a fun one to write!

Ch 7

Chris stepped through the front door of Minho and Jisung’s house a few minutes before 10pm. He was taking off his boots when he heard them shuffle quickly from the couch to meet him in the hallway with worried expressions on their face. Chris paused and gave them a curious look before he pulled his other boot off and hung up his coat. 

“I’m back.”, he waved his hand at them awkwardly. They felt oddly like parents in the moment. They relaxed a bit when after assessing him and deciding he didn’t seem under the influence. Minho took a drink of the coffee that was in his hands and he and Jisung returned to their seats on the couch. Chris sat on the recliner adjacent to them with an exhausted huff. 

“Did you get to talk to your friend?”, Jisung inquired and took the coffee from Minho’s hand to take a drink of it. Minho frowned and made grabby hands at him as he gulped his drink. 

“Yeah, I did. I’m not sure if he actually accepted my apology or not, though. But I do feel better now.”, he nodded to himself and absent mindedly watched the overly enthusiastic tampon commercial on the television in front of them. 

“Well, I’m sure they’ll forgive you with time.”, Minho reached over and snatched the coffee from Jisung’s hands. “Get your own.”

“Why are you so  _ mean _ ?”, Jisung chuckled and pinched his side, making Minho squirm. Chris was looking down at the numbers written on his hand when Jisung noticed. 

“Oh, yeah!”, he got up from his place next to Minho and padded into the kitchen. He returned with Chris’ phone in his hand. “Here, Changbin gave this to me to give you later.”, he handed Chris the phone. “I charged it for you.” 

After a few more minutes of watching t.v., Minho stretched his arms out and yawned. “I’m going to bed, losers.”, he got up and went into the kitchen to dispose of his dirty cup. He and Jisung made sure to give Chris his blanket and pillow that had been stored in the cupboard for the past few months before closing themselves in their bedroom. 

Chris laid on the couch, legs tangled in the too hot blanket, and opened his phone screen for the first time in months. The light was harsh and he squinted as he read the notifications. 

**3 from Junghoo:**

\------- Jun 12th 9:43 pm → _Hey bro, anything going on tonight?_

\------- Jul 20th 8:22 pm → _Where are you? Rat’s looking everywhere for you._

\------- Aug 18th 1:59 am → _You better have a good fucking excuse man…_

**3 from Rat:**

\------- Jun 14th 12:14 am → _Need that $5000 by friday. Not an option._

\------- Jul 19th 9:28 pm → _I’ve cut you a lot of slack, Bang. Where the fuck are you?_

\------- Aug 16th 2:02 pm → _You’re going to make me do this the hard way after all these_

_years? I don’t want to have to do this, but I will beat your ass_

_ next time I see you. Watch yourself. My patience is thin. _

**1 from Jisung:**

\------- Jun 13th 4:00 pm → _Hey man, not sure if they let you have your phone in there. Just_

_ wanted to let you know Minho and I are thinkin bout you. Love you bro.  _

**15 Missed Calls from Rat**

**4 Missed Calls from Junghoo**

**6 Missed Calls from Unknown Callers**

He sighed and dropped his phone onto his chest. It seemed like when he was in rehab, the world had been shut off like an electrical appliance. He had forgotten that just because he had changed didn’t mean the world he’d left had. Rat was going to have his ass. He needed to get money sooner or later, before he really got hurt. 

After a while of contemplating how fucked he was, he lifted the phone back to his face and typed a message to the number on his hand. 

\------- Chris 9:45pm → _It’s Chris._

Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep. He was woken up in the morning by the sound of Minho making a pot of coffee in the kitchen. He sat up on the couch and rubbed his eyes. The light shown through the window and warmed the room pleasantly. He felt so at peace, he could hardly believe the sensation was real. His leg wasn’t even bothering him at all. He grabbed his phone to check it on the nightstand. 

\------- Felix 8:01am → _Hi Chris._

He smiled to himself and began to type his response. Minho rounded the corner of the kitchen then and gasped, putting his hand to his chest in a mocking fashion. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you alive this early. Wow!”, he exclaimed in a patronizing voice. He had a genuine smile on his face despite his teasing. Chris rolled his eyes. 

“Is there enough coffee for me to have a cup?”, he asked. Minho just smiled warmly and brought him the cup that was already in his hands. Chris protested, saying he could get it himself, but Minho waved him off. He went back into the kitchen to pour himself another. Chris took a sip and texted Felix back. 

\------- Chris 9:12am → _Can we talk soon?_

Felix was quick to answer this time. 

\------- Felix 9:14am → _We can talk. Want to come to my apartment around 8?_

\------- Chris 9:15am → _I’ll be there. Thank you._

\------- Felix 9:17am → _Okay. Bye Chris._

He was happy that Felix had come around and decided to at the very least speak to him. Though he thought the acceptance of his apology didn’t matter, he was wrong. He was deeply troubled by his actions towards Felix, and he was hoping to somehow make it up to him. He didn’t know if that was possible, but he wanted to try. 

He spent the rest of the day doing random things. He wasn’t allowed to watch t.v. at Pineville, so he spent a few hours watching reruns of “Friends” and helped Minho hang potted plants from the front porch railing to pass the time. He found himself settled into the couch, looking at job ads in the newspaper at some point. Jisung walked up behind him and started reading a few aloud before he paused at one that sounded strange. 

“Frozen Goods Management?”, he gave a puzzled chuckle as he leaned over Chris’ shoulder to read the ad. Chris read the ad aloud, curious too. He’d never been a manager, but he’d always been pretty good at organizing things and he thought it might be something he could try. 

“Seeking a qualified individual with excellent salesmanship qualities and customer service abilities. Work a fast paced, engaging job in the ice cream sales industry in one of our many mobile operations…”, he trailed off as he read the last part. 

Jisung laughed loudly behind him. “Dude, it’s the ice cream man!”. Chris rolled his eyes and flipped to the next page of ads, shaking his head. Jisung shoved his shoulder forward playfully. “What? That’s literally the perfect job for you. Minho!”, he called out, “Get in here and tell Channie he’d be the perfect ice cream man! Kids love this guy!”. 

Chris shrugged his hand off his shoulder. “Don’t call me that.”, he complained. 

“I’d buy ice cream from you, Channie~”, Jisung reached down to pinch Chris’ cheek a little too hard as he leaned away and moaned in complaint. Minho came down the hall then, eyes scanning a book folded back on its spine in his hand. He looked at the display over the rim of his glasses. 

“Sungie, you’d buy ice cream from some old guy in an unmarked white van. Not really sure your opinion counts.”, he pointed out. Jisung frowned. 

Chris chuckled darkly to himself. “Yeah. I’m sure they’d want some washed up opioid addict selling ice cream to little kids. Perfect for the job.”. Jisung and Minho quieted at that and exchanged concerned glances. 

“Wow Chris, way to keep the mood light.”, Jisung chuckled, uncomfortable. Minho whistled quietly to himself as he turned and made his way out of the room, wanting to avoid the rest of the conversation if he could.

“I’m sorry.”, Chan said after a moment. “It’s still kind of fresh. I’m working on it.”.

Jisung ruffled his hand through Chris’ hair playfully. “It’s cool. Let me know if you need help looking, okay?”, he gave Chris a smile and opted to leave him alone in the living room. Chris spent an hour or applying to a few random jobs that seemed like they’d be his speed; cashier, administration, shelf stocker. When 7:30 rolled around, Chris got the courage to go ask Minho for another favor. 

He walked into Minho’s office and knocked on the door frame to get his attention. Minho’s eyes were fixed on the book he was editing on the computer screen in front of him and he turned to peer over his glasses at Chris when the knock interrupted him. 

“Would there be any possible way I could borrow the car again?”, he asked, fully expecting a ‘no’. Last night had been a fluke, for sure. He’d returned home on time, sober, but the anxiety that permeated the air when he returned and they were waiting for him was a clear indication that the trust was probably regretted after he’d already left with the car. Minho opened the drawer next to him, found the keys, and tossed them underhanded at Chris. He caught them, surprised. He waited for Minho to say something like ‘be home by 10’ or ‘I’m trusting you, don’t break my trust.’, but instead Minho turned back to his screen and started typing away again. 

“Drive safe, I think it’s supposed to rain.”, he stated simply. 

When he pulled up to Felix’s apartments at 8:00pm and parked, he suddenly started to get butterflies in his stomach, making him feel a little sick. He thought it must be because he was worrying, again, that Felix might not accept his apology, no matter how sincere, and that he might have to leave unresolved after all. 

When he knocked on the door and took a shaky deep breath in, Felix opened it a moment later with a half smile and stepped back to let him inside. He was wearing dark blue pajama bottoms with little stars on them that connected to form constellations and an oversized t-shirt that showcased his delicate neckline and collarbones. Chris noted the big dipper near Felix’s knee and stepped through the threshold hesitantly. It felt like trespassing. That was when the smell hit him. Brownies? 

“Is that… brownies?”, he asked, head cocking in the direction of the kitchen. Felix nodded sheepishly with a small smile and shoved his shoulder into the door a few times to get it to close completely before locking it. 

“Yeah. We never got to make the brownies the first night you came over. I was craving them anyway.”, he shrugged and blushed heavily. Chris smiled because he knew that even though Felix played it off like he didn’t make the brownies for him, he definitely did. Hope bloomed, bubbling in his chest beneath his sweater. He moved to sit on the couch with hesitation. He was trying to be on his best behavior. He didn’t want a repeat of the last two times he’d been there. They sat in silence for a bit while Felix fiddled with the strings of his pajama pants. 

“Did you try to find me at the bar yesterday?”, the blonde piped up suddenly to break the silence. 

“Uh, yeah. The manager was an asshole about it…”, he frowned. Felix laughed. 

“He’s always an asshole. I’m so glad that I don’t work there anymore.”, he leaned back into the couch cushions, feigning exhaustion. He tucked a strand of blonde hair behind his ear and his tone became a bit more low and serious. “That last night you came to the bar while I was closing up… I kinda forgot to lock the door behind me when we left. Some guys stole a bunch of stuff.”. 

“I’m sorry.”, Chris frowned. He felt guilty. 

Felix chuckled a little, tying and untying the strings of his pajamas together in his lap. “Yeah, you should be sorry. But I’m happy I don’t have that job anymore. Doing stuff with Hyunjin is way better.”.

“Is that the blonde guy you were with yesterday?”. Felix nodded. Chris tried to ignore the slight edge building in his muscles from what felt like a bit of jealousy. “Who is he?”, he tried to keep his tone as even as possible, but Felix picked up on it and smirked. 

“You jealous, Chris?”, he teased and wiggled his eyebrow at him. Panic stirred his mind like scrambled eggs. 

“I-I’m not gay, Felix.”, his voice wavered and he gave an awkward chuckle. Felix waved his hand in dismissal. 

“I was just kidding.”, he rolled his eyes. “He’s my boss at my new job. He’s not much older than me, and he’s really nice to hang out with, so having him as a boss has been pretty great.”. Chris ignored the annoyance that warmed his face from his compliments towards the tall, handsome blonde. 

“What kind of work do you do now?”. 

Felix took a moment to consider the wording, looking up into the space above Chris’ head, searching for the right words. “Well…”, he said after a moment, “I get paid to go to events with people.”. 

Chris was momentarily confused. He tried to think of a job position that required that kind of thing, but he came up empty. “What do you mean?”, he inquired. Felix thought about that again for a moment. 

“I go to events with people. Like to important luncheons and things like that.”, he paused. “And sometimes I go on dates with rich people.”, he admitted bashfully. 

Oh. So it was like that. This was something he never would have expected from Felix, but then again he didn’t know him very well. Maybe he knew him even less than he thought he did. Chris tried not to let his face give away his concern, but he was apparently very easy to read, because Felix started talking again when he saw the look on his face. He gave an awkward chuckle and scratched the back of his head while his cheeks got redder and redder beneath his freckles. 

“Gosh, okay. This is weird to tell you, but I feel like I have to explain. I don’t have sex. It’s not, like, prostitution…”, he shifted awkwardly in his seat. “Actually I’ve never even had sex before, so it’s definitely not that.”, he mumbled under his breath with a frown. Chris is staggered by that. He felt like he was getting whiplash from the change in assumptions his brain was making about Felix as it collected more information. “I just take women, and sometimes men, on dates and talk to them and have fun with them. It’s the perfect job for me. I hate seeing people lonely.”, he rambled a bit in his best attempt to eliminate whatever assumptions Chris had made at the beginning of the conversation. 

“Are you lonely?”, Chris asked suddenly. He wasn’t sure why he’d asked that. It felt like an intrusion; too intimate of a question for 3rd time strangers. Felix didn’t look uncomfortable when he gave him a small smile. 

“Very. Maybe that’s why I like the job so much.”, he said quietly. His voice became somber as he posed his next question. “Are you lonely?”. He asked it so sincerely, with so much care, that Chris felt a small under his gaze. They looked into eachothers glassy eyes for a moment and Chris willed himself to nod. He swallowed thickly and his body began to lean in towards Felix subconsciously. 

A shrill beeping snapped them both out of the weird moment. 

“Oh! The brownies.”, Felix hopped up from the couch quickly and jogged over to the oven. Just like that, the spell was broken. He reached in with one oven mitt clad hand and pulled the brownies out. “Ouch! Damn it!”, he squealed loudly and the pan clattered atop the stove. Chris stood and walked to him in the kitchen, shaking his head in disapproval. Felix was doubled over, clutching his hand tightly. Chris deftly grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the sink. He turned on the faucet and stuck Felix’s hand under the cold running water to hold it there. 

“You really weren’t kidding when you said you were clumsy. Maybe the brownies weren’t the best idea.”, he mumbled. Felix groaned and winced at the pain in his hand. 

“I’m not usually this bad, I was just nervous.”, he sighed and frowned at his red hand under the stream of water. 

“Why are you nervous?”, he asked in a low voice. When Felix looked up from his injured hand to look at him, their faces were too close to each other. He drew in a deep breath in surprise. 

“Because… last time you were in my kitchen, you robbed me.”, he breath was a bit ragged and his voice wavered in tone. His eyes scanned down Chris’ face and hovered at his lips for a moment before looking back into the older’s eyes. 

Chris leaned in impossibly closer, their noses nearly touching. “Are you sure that’s why?”, he whispered, almost a dare. Felix nodded and their lips brushed against each other, feather light. Chris’ eyes closed and he closed the millimeters of distance between their lips. The trickle of the water running over Felix’s injured hand and the loud timer on the oven were drowned out by the ringing in Chris’ ears, loud and demanding. The kiss was the gentlest Chris had ever kissed anyone, besides his first kiss in the seventh grade, and he’d never felt more nervous than he did now. Their mouths moved against one another and the soft warmth of Felix’s plump lips sent shivers down his spine. Electricity shot through his fingertips and begged him to touch the blonde. What was he doing? What was happening to him?

Felix’s uninjured hand reached up to cup the side of his face, where a large black bruise had once been from the bar fight a few months back. His thumb stroked his cheekbone lightly and Chris had to stop it. He broke the kiss, only pulling back enough to separate their lips. “I’m sorry.”, he sighed. “I already have so much to apologize for and I keep racking them up…”. Felix smiled and leaned back to look into his eyes. 

“Yes, you do.”, he smirked up at him. He moved away to remove his hand from the stream of water and shut off the faucet, then went to turn off the oven timer and close the oven door. “Could you get me a bandaid?”, he absentmindedly asked Chris as he performed the tasks. Chris knew where the medicine cabinet was, of course, and opened it to grab the bandaids. In his shuffling of items in search of the box, his hand touched one of the orange pill bottles with a bright blue cap. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the familiar shape in his hand, mind going blank. He shook his head and ripped his hand away from the bottle. No, not right now. He willed the monster of his addiction back into its cage. It was a small cage, made of weak aluminum bars, but it had been enough to keep the monster in the past few months. His hands found the bandaid box and he retrieved one before closing the cupboard door. Felix was sitting on the counter by then, already shoving a too-hot brownie into his mouth and sucking in sharp breaths, trying to cool his burning mouth around the brownie. Chris laughed a little at that childishness, finding it cute. He made his way over to stand between Felix’s slightly spread knees and peeled open the bandaid. 

“You know we could wait a few minutes for those to cool off, right?”, he raised his eyebrow. 

Felix held out the blistered finger in front of him and shrugged. “Because life is short and I want a brownie right now.”. He continued to munch on the brownie as Chris wrapped the bandaid gently around his finger, causing him to wince a little. It felt so good to just be with someone like this. It felt good to take care of someone, even so simply. Before rehab, he couldn’t remember very many times where his thoughts were of anything besides his addiction. Right now, in this moment, Felix was the only thing in front of him, no intoxication to stand between them. 

Felix finished the brownie and lifted his chocolate smeared fingers to his lips to lick them, but before he could, Chris’ hand had shot up to catch his. He paused for a moment, silence thick in the air, before bringing his small fingers to his mouth. He brought one into his mouth and sucked gently at the milky, sickly sweet chocolate on Felix’s fingertip. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the taste. 

Well, maybe there was an intoxication, because Chris certainly felt drunk despite his absolute sobriety. When he removed the blonde’s fingers from his mouth and opened his eyes again, Felix looked like a wreck. His chest rose and fell more heavily than before and his eyes were peering down at him, equal parts confused and mystified. Chris’ eyes trailed down from Felix’s to a small spot of chocolate present just below his pouty bottom lip. Compelled by some unknown force, he leaned slowly forward and stuck his tongue out to drag it across the spot of chocolate. His arms, without him realizing it, were snaking around Felix’s waist, and he brought his hips further in between the small, spread, constellation clad legs in front of him. The younger shivered as he kissed a trail from this bottom lip down to his jaw, moving down his neck, then pausing at the hollow of his delicate collar bone, giving the spot a gentle suck. Felix brought his uninjured hand up to lace his fingers through Chris’ brown curls, holding him to the spot. A moan escaped his lips and Chris couldn’t help but grin against his skin triumphantly. His hand began to travel south past Felix’s hip when the blonde pulled back slightly. Chris’ hand paused on his thigh and he looked up at him in concern. 

“Let’s…”, Felix sighed and closed his eyes tightly. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Chris’. “Let’s just take things slow, okay? Let’s just… eat another brownie and talk.”, he suggested in a timid voice. Chris closed his eyes and took a moment to process. It took him a second, but he used all of his willpower to will his hands away from Felix and take a step back, giving him some space. He mustered up a reassuring smile. 

“Okay. Sorry.”, he said with a ragged sigh. Felix looked sympathetic as he slid off of the countertop and grabbed two brownies from the tray. He offered one to him. 

“Stop apologizing to me. We’re both making the mistakes now.”. 

That night, they talked for hours about nothing and everything. Chris opened up to him about rehab. Felix was curled up on the couch next to him, hugging his knees to his chest, listening whole heartedly to his lamenting. When he got uncomfortable, Felix talked about his work; some stories good, some bad, but mostly about how happy the job made him in comparison to the bar. They eventually ended up pulling the comforter from Felix’s bed and curled up beneath it, Felix curled warmly against his side. As he snuggled Chris’ side and eventually dozed off, Chris thought about his ex girlfriend. 

She had been one of the only people who knew extensively about his addiction. She was there when it all started. When he first had the accident, she felt strongly empathetic towards him. She had known him as the type of guy who was obsessed with playing sports, swimming, and skateboarding, but after the accident, she’d come into his house to see him sprawled out on a futon with his leg propped up on pillows, playing video games with a vacant expression day in and day out. She was right, he was depressed. She had noticed how irritable he’d become, and then as time passed, how more and more strung out he was. One day, when he couldn’t form a single coherent sentence, she asked him how many pain pills he’d taken that day. He had told her he’d taken two by accident. 

The way Felix was cuddled up to him reminded him of her. She would cuddle up at his side, her face pressed into the crook of his neck, and his hands would roam across her stomach and downwards towards her waistband. It was something that made him feel more alive, in a way, as the torment of not being able to use his leg very well ate him up inside.

Their sex life was amazing until the drugs took over. It was another red flag when he couldn’t perform in bed, which he’d never had issues with before. He tried to explain that it was just the medication, that the doctor had told him it was a side effect. She had accepted quietly it and cuddled into his side, just the way Felix was doing now. She got the final piece of evidence she needed when she began to count the pills. One day there were 28 pills, and the next she counted 13. He had used 15 pills in a single day. He had been taking four times the recommended dose. He didn’t have an explanation to give her when she confronted him. Once he started to waste away, she didn’t stick around to watch. 

As he sat there, Felix pressed up against his side breathing heavily with sleep, he wondered how long he’d stick around to watch. Would he stay if things started to fall apart again? Would he abandon him if things got hard again? He tried to shake the troubling thoughts away, but his mind raced for hours while Felix slept next to him. 


	8. First Time For Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IMPORANT T/W: self harm, explicit sexual content

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my new chapter! I hope you're liking the story so far. Please leave me a comment if you do! :)

CH 8 

He didn’t go to Felix’s apartment with the plan of sleeping over. In fact, he went under the assumption that Felix hated him, but the incident surrounding the brownies had made things unclear. It felt strange to be pulled in so much by an almost complete stranger, and while he had had many intimate moments with women in the past, he’d never had lustful or romantic feelings towards another man before that night. He felt oddly giddy, as if it was a junior high crush, but the other half of him was terrified by their proximity. 

When Chris was forced to shift out from beneath Felix’s weight by the need to return Minho’s car at a decent hour, the morning sun was just beginning to peak over the adjacent apartment buildings. Felix insisted on walking him out to the car, though Chris told him it wasn’t necessary, and brought it up himself. 

“So, you’re not… you’re not gay?”, Felix mumbled quietly as they crossed the parking lot towards the parked car. His hands were stuffed deep into his pockets and he was avoiding looking at Chris, opting to focus on the rising cloud of condensation his breath made in the frigid air. 

“No.”, Chris answered a bit too quickly, but his voice lacked conviction. Felix looked at him then, searching in his eyes for something before looking away again, presumably unsatisfied with what he saw. “What about you?”, Chris asked, genuinely inquiring. Not only did he not want to talk about his own sexuality, which had not been confusing up until the last 12 hours, but a part of him wondered if he had misinterpreted Felix. Maybe he wasn’t gay at all. Maybe Chris had just pushed himself onto someone who was uninterested because of his random bought of bi-curiousness, and this walk across the parking lot was the end of a friendship before it could even start. He thought the latter was more plausible. 

After a moment, Felix answered. “I love who I love.”, he stated simply. “Don’t think it really matters what’s between their legs, ya know?”, he shrugged. 

“That’s courageous.”, Chris offered in a sincere tone. Being gay wasn’t easy. He knew that because he watched his best friend from childhood, Jisung, come out to his friends and family after deciding to become serious with Minho. Minho’s family was very accepting of his sexual orientation, but Jisung was practically thrown away like a piece of garbage by his family. Chris and Changbin were his real family, as far as they were concerned, and they treated him like their brother. Chris’ heart had broken for Jisung, and the thought of having to even consider coming out made his spine crawl with anxiety and fear. Felix seemed so tender, so  _ fragile.  _ Was his family accepting? All of these thoughts ran through his head as he considered this new piece of information. 

Maybe Felix could grow to like him some day. He shook his head to himself. 

“Not really.”, Felix chuckled awkwardly. “I’m actually kind of a coward.” 

“What do you mean?”, Chris asked. They were nearing the car, and he fished his hands in his pockets, looking for the keys as he waited for Felix to respond. 

“Well…”, a warm blush swept across his face and he kicked a rock in his path with his toe. “I haven’t ever done anything because I don’t really like my body, I guess. I’m kind of worried I’ll get rejected because of it.”, his voice wavered to almost nothing as they neared the car and stopped in front of it. “Uhg, ignore me, I’m getting too deep here. I do that a lot.”, he sighed, embarrassed. Chris turned to Felix gave him a warm smile. 

“Someone is going to love you more than you ever thought possible one day, no matter how you see yourself.”, his hand lifted unconsciously, surprising himself as he touched his fingertips to the path of freckles that spanned Felix’s cheek. “Like these, for instance. I don’t know why you would want to cover them up with makeup.” 

Felix pulled his face back from his hand and frowned down at the ground. “They’re skin imperfections.”, he grumbled. 

“I think they’re beautiful, actually…”, Chris felt the words fall from his mouth like word vomit, but it came out sounding like honey; affectionate and sweet. Felix’s blush deepened. When he didn’t respond, Chris offered his own embarrassing admission. “When I sleep with people…”, he hesitated, “I’m not nervous at all. But… when It’s over, I always feel like the worst person on the planet earth. I’m incredibly anxious about sex, I just have it backwards.”. Felix was looking up curiously at him now. 

“Why?”, the freckled blonde raised his eyebrow up at him, clearly not buying into the concept that this dark, confident, promiscuous person in front of him could ever had anxiety linked to his sexual endeavors. Chris felt a desire to continue to share with Felix. Maybe it was because he felt bad for what he’d done to him before rehab. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt more weight lift off his shoulders with every admission he divulged. 

“It feels like… I leave a little piece of me behind with every person I sleep with. Feels like there’s a piece of me in dozens of strangers’ beds, waiting for me to come claim them back. I keep giving more of myself away, and sometimes I kinda wonder how much I have left to give, I guess.”, he found himself a little lost in his thoughts when he felt the younger’s hand touch his arm lightly. 

“I don’t think it works like that.”, his brow furrowed with concern as he looked up at Chris. “I believe you’re complete, no matter how many people you’ve been with.” 

Chris had to smile at that, because he knew Felix was trying to be helpful, but the smile came off insincere. He shrugged in humble disagreement. He unlocked the car and climbed in then, after realizing the sun had risen a little more and he was probably cutting it a little close for getting Minho’s car back in time for Jisung’ to leave for work. Felix leaned down to the open window and crossed his arms over his chest, shivering from the cold.

“Will I see you again soon?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, goodbye.”, he stepped back from the window and watched as Chris shifted the car into drive and circled to the exit of the parking lot. The turn of events in their friendship confused him. He’d been around Felix only a handful of times, each of them like they were the plots of separate movies. One second he was doing shameful things to Felix to get pills, the next he was making out with him on the kitchen countertop. How did things turn out this way? He wasn’t sure, but he did feel his heart flutter slightly at the thought of seeing Felix again soon. 

His phone rang half way home and Chris sighed deeply when he saw Jisung’s name on the caller ID. He knew he was in deep shit. 

“Hello?”, he answered hesitantly, squinting in preparation for the yelling on the other end of the phone.

“Chris! Minho, he picked up!”, Jisung held the phone away from his face to call out before shouting into it again. “Where are you?!” 

“I’m sorry, I’m on my way back now. I was at a friends house and I accidentally fell asleep on the couch. I left as soon as I woke up.”, he explained, knowing it would be of no excuse. “I’m bringing Minho’s car back now.”

“Minho’s c-,”, Jisung sputtered, tone thick with anxiety, “I don’t give a shit about Minho’s car, dude, I was worried about you.” 

“I know, I’m sorry.”, Chris rounded the corner onto the town’s familiar main street. 

“Well, some guy came by the house looking for you earlier.”, Jisung sounded irritated. Chan froze for a moment in silence. 

“What did he look like?”

“Uh. Minho, what did he look like?”, he paused to listen to Minho’s mumbled answer in the background, “He was kinda tall, wearing a business suit, kinda darker tan.”, he relayed Minho’s description into the phone. Panic ran through Chris’ veins, ice cold. He knew it was Rat. 

“Tell me exactly what he said.”, he tried to keep his voice as even as possible, but it still came out full of stress. 

“Uh, he said you were supposed to meet up with him I think? He wanted you to call him as soon as you got the chance.”, he connected some misplaced dots in his own mind before coming to a wrong conclusion. “Oh my god, did you miss an interview already? You literally just started applying and you’re already missing them?”. 

Chris felt like cold water had been dumped over his head. Rat was looking for him, and now he’d graduated from relentless texting and calling to showing up at his friends’ home? He had to fix this before it got even more out of hand. For now, he went along with Jisung’s assumption. “I know, I really didn’t mean to and I’m beating myself up about it. I’m sorry for worrying you, I’m almost home.”

Jisung sighed, deciding to end the nagging there. “Okay, well call your brother. He’s freaking out.”

Chris hung up and paused at a stop sign to find Changbin’s number in his phone before pressing dial and driving through the intersection. It rang once before Changbin picked it up. 

“Chan?”, he asked with both relief and worry. “Where have you been?”. Chris tried to ignored the slight undertone of accusation that hinted in his brother’s voice. It was warranted, but it still bothered him. 

“I went to go see Felix.”. After a moment of silence, he added “The guy from the apartment that night.” for clarity. Changbin sighed. 

“Chris,”, he started with a groan, “Why do you insist on bothering this guy?”. Chris didn’t have an answer for that, honestly, but the easiest thing was to go back to his original thought process when he’d turned up at Felix’s apartment last night. 

“I wanted to apologize. I was really bad at the time, and I couldn’t let that go without at least telling him I was sorry.”.

“Chan.”, he said firmly, “Stay away from that guy. He could still decide he wants to press charges.”. There was a long pause. “I won’t lose my brother again.”, he said with finality. Chris knew there was no point in arguing with his brother, because he was right. He should have stayed away from him. Though his thoughts willed him to agree, he couldn’t form a sentence of agreeance. He wouldn’t make another promise he couldn’t keep.

“I’ll see you later, I’m pulling into the driveway now.”, he pulled the car into the driveway and shut off the engine. He hung up with Changbin and climbed out of the car to make his way inside. Minho was in the kitchen leaning over an open newspaper when he walked through the door. He looked up at him over the rim of his glasses. Chris walked over and feebly placed the keys down on the counter in front of Minho. He could tell by the worried expression on his friends face that he wanted to say something. 

“Minho, please. I don’t need more…”, he pleaded quietly. After a moment, his friend nodded and lifted himself off of his elbows, turning to open the fridge. 

“Orange juice?”, he asked over his shoulder. 

“Okay.” 

Minho poured two glasses of orange juice and gestured for Chris to sit down with him at the breakfast nook. He placed the glass in front of him as he sat down across from him. They sat in silence for a bit while Minho sipped his orange juice and watched a hummingbird circle the feeder just outside the window until Chris let his panic get the better of him. 

“I need help.”, he stated in a low tone, not wanting Jisung to hear from somewhere else in the house. Minho broke his gaze from the window and he peered at Chris with a weary, troubled look. 

“Oh god, did you… did you relapse?”, he whispered. Chris shook his head fiercely, not wanting to consider that as a possibility. 

“No no.”, he insisted. Minho relaxed a little in his seat. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to put any more on Minho than he already had. His friend didn’t owe him anything, it was definitely the other way around, but in this moment it felt like he was the only one he could trust. He laid it all out on the table because that was his only option. “Before I left for treatment, I racked up a lot of debt with my… my dealer.”, he took a pause to look up at Minho’s face after the mention of his drug related life, but it remained placid but expectant. He continued, reassured. “I have to pay him back because he knows where I live and he will hurt me badly if I don’t.”. The other’s face slowly shifted as he began to connect the dots, turning to shocking realization. 

“W- Was that who was at the door?”, his hand came up to his check as he choked out. Chris nodded. “Oh my god. Would he hurt Jisung? What about Changbin, does he know where he is? Oh my god, what about Jiyoo!”, he rambled in a hushed voice, frantic. 

“I know, Minho, that’s why I need to pay him back.”, he put his hands in his face and groaned. Rat took things too far always. He’d seen many people beat within an inch of their lives over money in the past, and he was about to become one of those casualties. Or worse, a family member would become a prime example. Rat was not above bodily harm for anything over $50, and Chris was well over that. 

“I will give you every cent of my money from my job, which I’m trying very hard to get. Just… please help me.”, he felt tears slip down his cheeks beneath his hands. He was in no position to be asking Minho, of all people, for money, but he was insurmountably desperate to keep his family safe. He couldn’t let another person get hurt because of his addiction. No matter how much help he got, his past would kept coming back to haunt him; over and over. 

“How much?”, Minho asked after a moment of thick silence. 

“$5,000”, Chris answered glumly and didn’t take his hands away from his face until he heard Minho’s chair scoot back on the linoleum and saw him shuffle to the office. He returned after a moment with an envelope in his hands and peaked behind his shoulder to make sure Jisung wasn’t anywhere to see what he was about to do. He shuffled over to Chris and handed him the envelope, hands shaky. 

“Please don’t tell Jisung about this.”, he whispered. “ _ Please _ be careful.”. Chris took it the envelope and stood to pull him into a hug. He kissed Minho’s cheek gently.

“I love you, thank you.”, he whispered and gave him a final squeeze before stepping away, shoving the envelope into his pocket, and sitting back down at his place at the breakfast nook table. Minho blushed deeply and sat back down too, picking at his fingernails and looking at the bird feeder outside again. The hummingbird was long gone. 

He pulled out his phone to text Rat. 

\------- (Chris) → I’m sorry this has taken me so long. I have your money. 

Rat texted back almost immediately. Chris opened the text with shaking fingers. 

\------- (Rat) → Bang. Good to hear from you, I was starting to think you were avoiding me. Let’s meet behind the bar at 1am. 

A text tone rang out and the name that popped up relieved a bit of the tension within him. 

\------- (Felix) → I liked talking to you last night. I know it’s probably weird, but I was wondering if you wanted to come back over tonight? I have work until 8, but you could come over after?

\------- (Felix) → Only if you want to. 

Chris frown lifted to a slight smile as he read the texts. The storm of anxiety caused by the situation with Rat evolved into a small swarm of butterflies, caused by something totally foreign. 

\------ (Chris) → Of course. I’ll see you at 8:30. 

\------ (Felix) → Okay :) See you soon. 

Despite the hell that meeting Rat promised to be that night, he would at least get to see Felix again. He was beginning to feel so fond of him; wanting to know more about him. What made him happy, what made him sad, what made him tick. He wasn’t gay, but Felix made him strangely happy. It was in his bright smile, his melodic laugh, his delicious brownies, his soft lips, his understanding, his empathy, his trust… He barely knew him, but what he did know was that each of these things were exactly what he needed. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but it made him happy.

8pm came quickly because Chris found himself in the midst of a much needed mid day nap. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, so his eyes shut automatically as soon as his body hit the couch. Minho let him borrow the car again, because he wanted him to be able to do the money exchange quickly and come back home safely, so he stuffed the money into the glove box before heading off to Felix’s apartment.

Felix was already making dinner when he knocked on the door. He pried the door open and smiled at him briefly before jogging back into the kitchen to manage the multiple pans on the stove. He turned the burners off and started plating the food as Chris came in and removed his coat to hang it on the hook by the door. He joined Felix in the kitchen, leaning on his elbows on the counter to watch. 

“You like to cook?”. 

“Yeah.”, Felix laughed after a moment, sighing at the messily plated pasta as he sat it down on the living room coffee table. “Actually, no. I’m awful at it. People assume I’m good at cooking because I like to bake, but I’m not that good at it.”, he trotted into the kitchen to grab some chopsticks and gestured for Chris to come sit on the couch with him. 

They sat and ate for a while, talking aimlessly about Felix’s day at work and the weather. 

“The girl I took out tonight to a company party was actually really nice. I had a lot of fun. I got to wear a really nice outfit and she helped me put on some brown smokey eyeshadow that made me look really sultry and sexy.”, he wiggled his eyebrows at Chris. 

“What did you do at the party?”, Chris took another mouthful of pasta. 

“It was kind of wild for a business party. I was definitely the only sober one there.”, he laughed. “I’m not allowed to drink of the job.”, he clarified. Chris nodded, chewing thoughtfully. “We just played some party games like truth or dare and hung out.”.

“That sounds like a fun job.”, Chris sat the empty bowl down on the table and leaned back into the couch. 

“It is. What about you? Have you found a job yet?”, Felix sat his bowl down too. 

“No, not yet. Seems like no one wants to hire me right now.”, he chuckled humorlessly. Felix frowned, then his eyes lit up a moment later. 

“You’re more than handsome enough to work as an escort! Plenty charming, too.”, he mused. Chris let out a loud guffaw, throwing his head back against the back of the couch. 

“Hah! You’re full of it.”, he shook his head with a smile. “I am nowhere near attractive enough for that. I’m also kind of an asshole.”, he chuckled. Felix grabbed his phone from the table and found Hyunjin’s contact information in a quick second. He pressed the dial button.

“Well, I can’t argue with the second one, but you’re actually extremely hot.”, he said, waiting as the dial tone rang. Hyunjin picked up with a simple hello. “Hyunjin! Please tell Chris he’s attractive enough to be an escort.”, he pulled the phone back from his ear to put it on speaker phone and held it out in front of Chris. 

“Erm, yes.”, Hyunjin chuckled awkwardly. “Chris, you’re extremely attractive. From the moment I saw you, I’ve been considering how I could convince you to work for me. You’d be really good at it.”. Chris blushed and pressed his hand over his eyes, embarrassed. This was crazy. Of course he knew he was semi-decent looking, because he’d never had trouble picking up women, but he didn’t think he was attractive enough to be paid for. No way. 

“Uh, well now that it’s out in the open, what do you say?”, Hyunjin said after getting no response from him. “Want to come in for an interview soon? I have a new project coming up and you’d fit the demographic  _ perfectly _ .” 

“Uhm,”, he was conflicted and so far out of his comfort zone, but he did need a job. “Okay, sure.”, he hesitated. 

“Great! I’ll send Felix the details.”, Hyunjin said simply, satisfied. “See you tomorrow, Felix. Great work tonight, you got a big tip. Must have been that pretty nearly see-through shirt I picked out for you.”.

“You’re probably right.”, Felix laughed. “See ya tomorrow.”, he hung up the phone and smiled at Chris, who was sitting there like a deer in headlights, blushing wildly. “Told ya. He thinks you’re super pretty. We both do.”, he added. 

“You think I’m pretty?”, Chris asked shyly, genuinely bewildered. Why did such a simple compliment make him feel like he was leaning out of a plane, about to skydive with no parachute. 

“I do.”, Felix’s voice became small and he looked away. It seemed like he was regretting being so forward with him, but Chris didn’t want the moment to slip away yet. It felt too good. He reached up slowly to take Felix’s chin between his thumb and index finger, turning his head gently to look at him, eyes settled on his lips. Excruciatingly slow, he leaned in and pressed his lips to the blonde’s for the gentlest of kisses. Felix turned his face from Chris’ after the brief kiss with a shaky sigh. 

“Chris…”, he sighed, leaning back from his touch. Chris let his hand fall away from the freckled boy’s chin, defeated. “I am  _ so  _ confused.”. 

Well, shit, so was he, he thought.

“About what?”, he asked, though he knew the answer. 

Felix searched his eyes for a moment, brows furrowed deeply, frustrated. “You keep telling me you’re not gay, but you keep kissing me.”, he frowned. “I want to… but I don’t know what you want from me.” 

Chris slumped back into the couch. “I don’t know either. I just want to be here and… and I guess live in the moment. Without the labels. I don’t know if I’m ready for labels.”, he gave a sad sigh and picked at the skin around his thumb nail, anxiety creeping through his chest. Thinking about the situation more deeply had him feeling uncomfortable. The drugs had already made him forget who he was, and now even the most fundamental parts of him were being called into question. He hated it. 

Felix watched him for a moment, appraising the situation, before surprising Chris by sinking down into the couch and cuddling up against his side. He laid his head gently on his chest and suggested his arm around his shoulders. Chris let his arm be guided around him and held him there, accepting his embrace. The butterflies and happy feelings he felt within his chest at the proximity of the boy made him feel so warm, but it soon started to become overshadowed by a familiar feeling; a burning pain deep within his shin bone, just a threatening spark. 

“I know it’s difficult. We don’t have to talk about it right now.”, Felix suggested, eyes closed, leaning against his chest. Chris tried to focus on the smell of Felix’s shampoo, on the warmth of his skin, at the rhythm of his breathing against his side, but the spark was quickly growing into something more. He winced as he dwelled on the pain in his leg, letting his head fall against the back of the couch. His breath began to quicken and his face began to scrunch up as he felt a panic wash through his chest. The fire in his leg demanded attention. 

“Chris?”, Felix lifted his head up to look at his face, “Are you okay? You’re breathing really hard.” 

“No.”, he closed his eyes and whispered honestly. He felt a hand reach up and cup the side of his face.

“Look at me.”, the younger said in a gentle but firm voice. He coaxed Chris face with his hand to look at him. “You’re here with me. Don’t worry. Don’t think about anything else.”, his eyes slid down to Chris’ lips and after a brief moment of contemplation, he pressed his lips to his. “You’re here with me.”, he repeated and went back in for another kiss. 

At first it wasn’t working. The fire still burned on, and he was barely kissing back, but as Felix deepened the kiss gradually, the fire starting to withdraw and the anxiety that felt like it would spill over and threaten his sanity was slowly replaced with something else. His hand found its way to the back of his blonde hair, lacing his fingers through it gently, willing the kiss even deeper. It was evolving from gentle and careful to urgent lustfulness. His tongue prodded the opening of Felix’s soft lips and he slipped it inside, exploring his mouth with careful passion. When he felt a hand slide across his abs, tracing the planes of his chest and stomach, he groaned softly into the other boy’s open mouth. His hand slipped down to his waist and squeezed the dip there, making Felix pull back with a small gasp. A smile lifted his freckled cheeks, his eyes creating little half moons as he smiled warmly down at Chris. 

“Feeling better?”, he asked, amused. Chris nodded and peered up at him through hooded eyes. Felix chewed his lip then, thinking about something. His smile wavered a bit. 

“You can touch me, if you want.”, he offered, barely a whisper. 

“Are you sure?”, Chris’ hands grasped his waist a little tighter in anticipation and he searched his eyes for any sign of displeasure. He couldn’t find any. The blonde nodded gingerly. Chris was pulling him onto his lap then and his lips found their way back to the other’s, with more urgency now. 

Felix let out an involuntary gasp as he straddled his lap, feeling his hardened length beneath his own. Chris didn’t want to think about what he was doing, or else he might have stopped himself as one of his hands left Felix’s waist to reach down and stroke him through his pants. Felix broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to Chris’. He let out a quiet, strained moan, pressing himself into the older’s hand eagerly.

“You can make sounds, don’t worry.”, he encouraged as he continued to stroke him and squeeze his other hand at his waist. “I like it.”. Chris slipped his hand between the boys skin and boxers and took his length in his hand, circling the tip of his finger around the head. Felix shuddered and let out a still quiet, but slightly louder groan and he ground himself onto Chris’ hand. 

“Does that feel good?”, he trailed his lips down his neck, nibbling as he went, leaving little red marks behind. He felt Felix nod, but pulled back, unsatisfied. “Can you talk to me?”, he brought his hand up to run the pad of his thumb along his plump bottom lip. 

Felix blushed deeply. “I… Yes it’s- It’s good.”, he struggled to speak as Chris continued to move his hand. 

“Good boy.”, he complimented. Felix groaned at the words of praise. Suddenly, he flipped them around and pushed Felix down gently to lay on the couch. He hovered over him, one hand on the couch next to Felix’s head to steady him, one finding it’s way to the hem of the boy’s shirt. He yanked it up and leaned down, planting kisses up and down his chest until he took one of his erect nipples into his mouth and nibbled at it. Felix arches his back at the contact and he let out a louder moan this time, pleasing Chris immensely, who rewarded him by trailing his kisses downwards to his stomach and pausing at his waist to slip his fingers into the waistband of his pants and boxers, ready to pull them down. 

To his surprise, he felt two hands clutch onto his wrists firmly, desperately. He looked up Felix’s body to see his eyes wide and nervous, his chest heaving heavily. Chris gave him a nervous, but reassuring smile. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve never done this either, remember?”, he encouraged softly. His voice wavered and he was a bit shocked out how truly terrified he was to do this. He hadn’t imagined sex with a man would be this different. He’d done it so many times with women, and he assumed it would just be a bit logistically altered, but he was wrong. This was much different. He had never felt this nervous, excited, and completely out of his depth before. “Trust me.” 

Felix’s face softened a bit at that, realizing he was right. He wasn’t alone in this, Chris was just as nervous as he was. After a moment of consideration, he hesitantly released his wrists from his grasp and threw his arms over his face to hide himself, embarrassed. Chris wanted to pull his arms away from his face, to see him react to his touch, but he didn’t want to push him too much. He pulled Felix’s pants and boxers down all the way, and Felix knees instinctively came together to try to cover himself. 

“You’re so beautiful.”, Chris mumbled as he took in the sight of Felix’s naked body beneath him. He’d seen other naked men in the locker room at the gym, but never in this context, and he couldn’t imagine anyone could look much better to him than this. That’s when he noticed them. 

On Felix’s legs lay a field of white raised scars, some thick and raised more than other more shallow ones. They were plentiful, spanning from his pelvic region down to his mid thighs. Chris brought his hand up to his mouth, open with shock, and froze. After a moment of silence and lack of movement, Felix lifted his arm from his face and peered down at him questioningly. Suddenly, as if Felix had forgotten they were there for a moment, he remembered. He shot up to sit, grappling to pull his pants out from under Chris’ body desperately. 

“Felix.”, he took his wrists gently in his hands and tugged them away from their grip on his discarded pants, halting his efforts to retrieve them. “Stop.”. Felix hands paused and he peered down at him, tears threatening the corner of his eyes. Chris looked up at him, remembering what he’d told him about his worry about his body image, determined to show him he was not in any way turned off by his scars. He released his wrists and slowly bent his head down to kiss his knee. He kept eye contact with him as he laid another kiss a little further up towards his inner thigh. He laid a trail of kisses there, sucking gently as he neared his crotch. His lips trailed their way across the front of his thighs, kissing the raised, healed over gashes. Felix let out a small whine and brought his knees together, anxious. Chris lifted his head to look up at him. 

“Stop fighting me. These do not bother me at all.”, he stared sincerely into Felix’s eyes, wanting him to believe him more than anything in the world. “ I want you.”, he assured him. “Badly.”, he added. He lowered his head back down and kissed his way back across the front of his thigh to his crotch. He took his hard cock in his hand and gave it a stroke, lining his lips up with the tip. He gave it a small lick, making Felix gasp sharply, and then took it into his mouth and sank down. That was all it took for Felix to give up. He let himself fall back to lay on the couch again and let his legs fall apart, spent and desperate for release. 

Chris had never done this before, and he didn’t feel like he was replicating what he’d had done to him many times before very well, but he tried his best. From the sinful sounds Felix was making, it seemed that he was doing an okay job for his first time. He could tell Felix was getting close when he felt his hands comb through his hair and Felix began to involuntarily push upwards into his mouth. He felt like choking as Felix hit the back of his throat, but he held his composure as his eyes watered and Felix continued to push his hips towards his face, chanting his name desperately. He tried to pull Chris off of him, pushing his face back with his hands.

“I’m g-going to cum, w-wait-”, he tried to push Chris’ mouth off of him, but he pushed Felix’s hands out of the way and sucked more desperately. Felix came into his mouth with a loud groan. Chris swallowed everything he gave him. It didn’t taste good, but the feeling of being able to give him that much pleasure made his heart swell with pride and admiration. He lifted himself up to sit on his knees between Felix’s, who laid beneath him, reeling and heaving as he came down from his high. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”, he started. 

“Stop apologizing, we’re past all that.”, he smiled down at him and leaned down to give him a deep kiss, letting him taste himself. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”, Felix chuckled and kissed him again. 

There was no coming back from that. They were in much too deep. 

  
  



	9. Don't Try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: graphic violence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys~ Here's another update. Please leave me a comment if you're still interested in this story! I'd love to hear your thoughts. <3

CH 9

It was 12:25am when Chris let out a deep sigh and peeled himself away from Felix’s side to sit up and stretch. He didn’t want to go meet Rat. He wanted to stay there with his arms wrapped around the younger’s waist, talking about nothing. Not only was being with Felix, being with a man, much different than being with a female physically, something felt different emotionally as well. He’d never felt the butterflies he felt in his stomach when Felix’s hands traced the planes of his chest, had never felt the swell in his heart he did when Felix lifted his hand to clutch the back of his shirt, asking him not to leave yet. 

He wasn’t sure why he felt this way. When he really thought about it, it wasn’t just that Felix was a man. He’d been around many men before in the locker room, at sleepovers, and at school, but he’d never felt so magnetically pulled to another man before. He wasn’t even sure he’d really felt it with his girlfriend, but he pushed that thought away as he turned to Felix and ruffled his hair with a smirk. 

“You know I’ll be back.”, he chuckled at Felix’s disappointed frown. He caught Felix around the waist in his arms as he sat up to stretch, too, and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. He held him close for a moment, face in the crook of his neck. “What are we doing?”, he sighed after a moment, but didn’t move away. Felix brought his hand to the back of his head to run his fingers through his soft brown curls. It comforted him. 

“I’m honestly kinda confused,”, he admitted, “but I do know that this feels good to me.”, he nodded definitely. “I guess I… I feel like I can trust you, for some reason.”, he chuckled to himself at the irony and Chris pulled back to look at him in the face, serious now. This wasn’t normal. Nothing about this was right. He willed himself to care.

“You shouldn’t trust me.”

“I know.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” 

They stayed like that for a moment, staring into each others eyes. The shrill ding of a text message ringtone forced them apart. It was Rat, reminding him of their agreement to meet. He sighed and slipped the phone back into his pocket before taking Felix’s face in his hands and bringing his lips to his for a soft, final kiss. 

“Thank you for tonight.”, Felix whispered. He looked like he might cry, Chris thought, but his eyes remained dry. “I’m sorry about th-”, Chris cut him off by placing his index finger to his lips, shushing him. 

“Stop. Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”, he said sternly. This was a non-negotiable. He would not allow Felix to feel lesser than under his gaze. He had enjoyed himself immensely, despite Felix’s concerns about his scars. “I love your body.” 

He looked doubtful, but Felix blushed deeply and nodded in hesitant acceptance, lips sealed beneath Chris’ finger. Chris left Felix with the promise that he’d text him the next day and make plans to meet up again soon. Neither wanted to leave each other, but he knew this was something before the issues between he and Rat escalated any further. 

He made his way to the bar in the green district, where Rat made frequent deals, and parked the car a few blocks away. He didn’t want Minho’s car being seen near the bar, in case anyone, god forbid, happened to recognize it by its make and model or the cat sanctuary bumper sticker on the back. He made sure to grab the money from the glovebox and locked the car behind him. As he walked the few blocks to the bar, and as it came into view, he spotted Rat standing with three other men to the side, smoking a cigarette and laughing boldly. He usually wasn’t as nervous to meet with Rat as he should have been, because he had quickly become one of Rat’s favorite customers. He might have considered them friends, at one point. As he approached the bar, however, he could feel anxiety well up within his chest. He had a feeling he was no longer considered a favorite. 

“Chris!”, Rat tossed his cigarette onto the ground and greeted him as he approached the alley way. “What’s up, buddy?”. Before he could respond, the three men were on him, pulling him into the alleyway. One of the men grabbed his forearms and hooked them behind his back, holding him in place while the other two men took turns throwing punches into various places on his body. He bent in half with a loud groan when one of them landed a sharp kick to his stomach. Rat talked while they continued to beat him. 

“Bang, I really didn’t want to do this to you.”, he feigned a sense of moral struggle and crossed his arms over his chest, watching. “You know I can’t have anyone be this far behind in payment. You’re my friend,”, Chris’ chest heaved, trying to get a breath in, feeling the sharp stabbing pain of a broken rib at his side, knocking the wind out of him. “, but you know that’s just not how I do business.”, Rat continued. 

Chris felt like he was dying. His whole body screamed out in pain, his nose poured blood onto the concrete below him, his body hung limply in the arms of the man holding him in place. He had no strength to fight back. His vision faded in and out, and he coughed on something wet and metallic that came from the back of his throat. More blood poured onto the ground at his feet. 

Rat walked over and stepped between the men and Chris, making the beating stop, to place his hand on Chris’ shoulder and lean down to look into his eyes. Chris couldn’t see him through his swollen left eye, and the right one was beginning to swell closed too, but he did his best to look Rat in the eye. He couldn’t fight back against this many people, but he wouldn’t let Rat think he was a sad, kicked puppy. He wouldn’t let him think he owned him. Rat must have saw that defiance, because his face changed and his hand came up in a flash to crush Chris’ jaw in his big hand, bringing his face closer. 

“You know when I say I will beat the shit out of someone, I do it. I don’t break promises. Someone has to hold up their end of the bargains around here.”, he spat harshly. He held his face there for a moment, bruising his jaw beneath his fingers, staring into his eyes with unhinged fury, before dropping his hand. Chris coughed up more blood. Rat shook his head and backed up, tutting to himself. “Okay. That leg, guys.”, he gestured down half haphazardly to Chris' uninjured leg. What?

The men approached him again and the one holding him began to lay him down on the ground. He struggled weakly against him.

“This one?”, one of the men placed the bottom of his shoe over Chris’ shin bone on his uninjured leg and threw Rat a questioning look. 

“Yeah. The other one’s already fucked.”, Rat took another cigarette into his mouth and lit it, then leaned down to retrieve the envelope of money from Chris’ pocket and began to count it. 

“Why?!”, Chris struggled more violently. He thrashed against the men’s holds, ignoring how painful his entire body was. “I gave you the money! Don’t do this!”, he coughed and spattered desperately. 

“I have to, Chris. You know that.”, Rat furrowed his brow at him like he wasn’t sure what part of this situation Chris didn’t understand. “I have to make an example of you, you know that’s just how I do business. It’s nothing personal.”. He finished counting the money and folded it up to shove it into his pocket. “I like you, but I don’t do special treatment.”, he nodded to the waiting men with finality.

He screamed out as the men stomped harshly on his shin multiple times in succession, making sure it was well broken. Hot tears streamed down his face and he lost the ability to vocalize the pain, let alone move at all. The men released him and joined Rat, who was walking away now, leaving him in a lump in the alleyway. 

“Call me when you need more.”, Rat called over his shoulder, nonchalant. 

He laid there for what seemed like a small eternity. It was quiet, no one had walked past the ally way to see him, no cars had driven by. It must have been late. His arms were not badly beaten, because they’d been used to hold him back, so he was just barely able to find his phone in his pocket and bring it up to lay it near his head on the concrete. 

“Hey Siri,”, he groaned. “Call Jungwoo.”

“Calling Kim Jungwoo.”, Siri chimed. 

“Christopher!”, Jungwoo answered after a few rings. “Where you been, dude? I haven’t seen you in forever.”. When Chris didn’t answer, leaving Jungwoo with only the sounds of raspy breathing and small, painful gasps, Jungwoo chuckled. “Did you butt dial me while fucking?”, he talked to himself. 

Chris groaned and willed himself to speak. “N-no. Help.”. Jungwoo switched modes immediately. 

“You at the bar?”, he could hear the jingle of car keys and the opening of a creaky door in the background of the call. 

“Ye..s..”, Chris gasped.

Jungwoo was there within 10 minutes. He sprinted down the ally to Chris, who had managed to pull himself up enough to sit leaning against the brick wall, and crouched down to examine him. 

“Holy shit, Chris.”, his hand went up to his forehead and his jaw was slack with shock. “This is seriously bad. We gotta get you to a hospital.”. Chris wanted to say no. He hated doctors, but he mostly didn’t want to cause any more issues for Changbin or Minho or Jisung so soon. He let him heave him off the ground and drag him to Jungwoo’s nearby car.

“Who did this? Rat?”, Jungwoo sped to the hospital, going well over the speed limit. He couldn’t answer him. Every bump in the road felt like another punch to his body, beating him all over again. 

The doctors ended up having him placed in an operating room a few hours later to fix his leg. Much like his skateboarding injury, they had to use several pins and screws to piece his ankle back together and to hold the shattered pieces of his shin bone in place. By 10am, he was ready to go home with discharge papers. The doctor had placed him on a morphine drip for a few hours after surgery, and he’d savored every second of it. It was euphoric and all that kept him from losing his mind as he stared down at his swollen, wrapped leg. It also kept him sane when the police came in to question him about his condition. He lied to them and said he didn’t know who’d done it because he’d passed out. They were skeptical and repeated the question several times, but left with reassurance that they’d ‘find the perpetrator’ when they realized Chris wasn’t going to divulge any more information than was absolutely necessary. 

The nurse brought him the discharge papers. The doctor came to visit him one last time before he was released to check on him and give him a small piece of paper with a prescription scrawled in black pen ink. He put it in his pocket and kept his hand on it while he was wheeled out to Jungwoo’s car. It was comforting; knowing it was there. He felt the smallest bit of security in that small slip of paper. Jungwoo dropped him off at Minho’s car that was still parked a few blocks from the bar. He had insisted on driving him home, especially in his condition and having been on morphine, but Chris insisted that he needed to take Minho’s car home. Jungwoo had seen him do plenty of things he shouldn’t have while high in the past, so he let him with a shrug. 

He got into Minho’s car and drove to the local pharmacy. It was difficult, but he drove with the leg that had not just had surgery performed on it. His leg was so incredibly painful that he needed pain medicine quickly. He filled the prescription at the drive through and felt strange as the pharmacy technician handed the bag to him. It felt strange to receive them legally after buying them from Rat for so long. 

He ripped the bag open and took 3 pills from the container, his usual dose. He swallowed them and felt the familiar stickiness of dry swallowing a pill in the back of his throat. He sat for a moment, wishing the effects would take hold faster, but decided he would rather be at home recovering than in the parking lot of a grocery store. He drove home. 

When he got home and limped inside on the crutches Jungwoo had let him barrow, Minho dropped the laundry basket he was holding in the hallway when he caught sight of him. “Oh my god!”, he shouted. 

He hadn’t looked in the mirror yet, but he suspected it wasn’t good. Jisung was rounding the corner into the hallway then, panic stricken at the sound of Minho’s shouts, and came to a screeching halt when he saw Chris, standing battered in the doorway. 

“What the fuck happened?”, Jisung looked equal parts worried and angry at the sight before him. Minho stood beside him, mouth open in realization. He had connected the dots quickly. 

“Did.. did  _ he  _ do this to you?”, Minho cried in desperation. Jisung looked back and forth between Minho and Chris, realizing he’d been left out of the loop. 

“Who’s  _ he _ ?!”, Jisung demanded at Minho. When Minho said nothing, he turned to repeat his question to Chris. “Who the fuck is  _ he _ ?”. 

There really were no other options now. He would find out soon enough. Minho would be interrogated about it. It would be a mess. He forced himself to tell the truth. He sighed and closed his eyes, wishing he didn’t have to be a disappointment to Jisung yet again. “My dealer.” 

Jisung blew up then. He whipped around to confront Minho, whose eyes were fixed desperately on Chris. “Did you know about this?”, he yelled. Minho shrunk into himself and Chris wanted to reach out and take him in his arms. Jisung would never hurt him, but he knew Minho fell apart when he was yelled at. He felt guilty. 

“I just wanted to help.”, Minho was crying now. He rambled and tried to explain himself fast enough before Jisung hit a wall and stopped listening. “I was afraid the guy would beat him up and-and he k-knew our address and he a-also knew Changbin’s and I was afraid!”, he sobbed, backing up against the wall of the hallway, using it for support. 

“You gave him money to give to his drug dealer?!”, Jisung raged, red in the face. Minho sobbed against the wall, leaning away from him. 

“I just wanted to help!”, he cried. 

“Please stop yelling at him-”, Chris started to protest, feeling uncomfortable with Jisung’s berating. “He d..doesn’t..”, he wobbled on his feet. His vision started to get fuzzy around the edges. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”, Jisung began shouting at him now. That was fine, at least he wasn’t yelling at Minho anymore. “We could have called the police and told them you were being threatened! Why would you do this?!”. Chris wasn’t listening anymore. He felt himself lose balance and fall back, unable to catch himself as he hit the floor hard with a groan. He felt like he was in a dream. Jisung was at this side then. 

“Hey!”, he shook his shoulders harshly. The anger in his voice was completely gone now, replaced by urgency and worry. “Hey, did you take something?”, he shook him as Chris tried to lift his head to look at him. He couldn’t make his eyes focus on his face. “Answer me.”

“Jisung don’t shake him too hard, he’s really hurt.”, Minho was trying to pull Jisung off of Chris, but Jisung shook his hands off his arm and went back to shaking Chris by the shoulders, trying to rouse him.

“Shit.”, Jisung cursed when he realized Chris was fading out of consciousness. Without hesitation, he shoved his fingers down his throat and wiggled them, causing Chris to wake up and wretch, vomiting all over himself and the floor. He held up his arms weakly to try to push Jisung away as he stuck his fingers back down his throat again, causing him to vomit a second time. 

“Stop Jisung!”, Minho went to grab him again, but Jisung shoved him back this time, causing him to stumble back against the wall with a dull thud. 

“I’m trying to help him!” he shouted. Chris was fading back out again, but he could hear Jisung a little more clearly. “What did you take?”, he repeated in a firm voice, willing Chris to focus. 

“I.. I don’t… know. The bottle is in my pocket. From the doctor.”, he did his best to form coherent sentences. Something sour stirred in his stomach while Jisung reached in his pockets for the bottle. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”, he said a fraction of a second before vomiting again, this time all over himself and Jisung. 

“I’ll go get a towel.”, Minho rushed out of the hall into the kitchen. 

“Call Changbin.”, Jisung shouted after him, trying to get Chris to sit upright. 

After they cleaned him up the best they could, which was not saying much, they laid him on the couch. He looked up at the ceiling, imagining patterns in the popcorn ceiling texture that weren’t there. He knew he was in a bad situation. He knew that he was in trouble. Despite all that, he felt so so good. There was no pain in his leg, there was no pain in his heart, there was no pain in his thoughts; there was nothing at all. It was his favorite feeling. He smiled faintly to himself and closed his eyes as Jisung cleaned the vomit a few feet away in the hallway and Minho talked to Changbin on the phone in the kitchen. His eyes fell closed and he drifted to sleep. 

When he woke up, it was much less hectic around the house. His leg throbbed painfully and he winced at the feeling. He could hear Changbin talking to someone on the phone in the kitchen. He could only hear half of the conversation.

“Yes, I know that. He  _ was  _ doing well. I thought he could handle this, just like your professionals did, but now that he’s here I think you severely misjudged his condition and sent him home too early. He needs to come back… What? What do you mean you don’t have any spots?... What the hell am I supposed to do? I thought you had some sort of guarantee that he could come back if he- … no, no. That’s complete bullshit. I thought you gave me my brother back, but this is not my brother.”, Chris’ leg was in so much pain now that he was fully awake that he wasn’t sure if he could stand it much longer. He could feel every part of his broken body scream in pain. “But he needs serious help still!... Fine, well fuck you too, then!.”, he heard Changbin slam the phone down onto the counter with an infuriated groan. “Fuck!”. 

Changbin came back into the living room then, surprised by his brother’s open eyes, and stopped in his tracks. Chris was pouring sweat and breathing heavily, desperate from the pain. His eyes pleaded with his older brother. “Please, it hurts so much.”, he begged. Changbin shook his head no. Tears began to stream down Chris’ face. How could his brother stand there and not help him when he was clearly in excruciating pain? “Binnie, please!”, he cried out in genuine agony. 

Changbin wavered at the nickname for a moment, but reclaimed his resolve. “No, Chan. I can’t give you any painkillers.”.

“My leg is broken! You’re just going to sit here and watch me suffer?”, he cried. He couldn’t believe Changbin wasn’t helping him. The person he’d relied on the most throughout his life was abandoning him when he needed him the most. 

“I’m sorry.”, Changbin crossed his arms over his chest and turned his head away, his chin jutting out. “It’s just the way it has to be.”.

“You can’t even  _ look  _ at me!”, Chris grabbed a book of Minho’s from the bedside table above his head and threw it harshly at his brother, wincing in pain. Changbin flinched. “Look at me, god damnit!”, he cried out and took another book from the table to chuck it at him again, much weaker this time. Changbin refused to look at him. 

“I can’t watch you fall back into this again.”, he whispered, as if he was trying to convince himself not to give in to his younger brother. 

Chris wrapped his arms around himself and squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He spoke through his gritted teeth. “I can’t believe you would hurt me like this. I fucking hate you!”, he sobbed. 

That was what finally forced Changbin to look at him. Tears filled his eyes as he watched him struggle on the couch. He blinked them away before storming out wordlessly. 

Chris was left there to struggle throughout the night. He had never felt more pain in his life. This was worse than the skateboarding accident. He wasn’t sure if it was the actual injuries that were worse, or if it was because no one would give him the thing he so desperately  _ needed  _ to be okay. It wasn’t like he was asking for the medicine to use it recreationally; he was in excruciating pain. 

At some point in the middle of the night, Minho came to him in the darkness of the living room. He flipped on the lamp on the side table. He was holding a glass of water, and in his other hand, extended out to Chris, was a white pill. Chris took it immediately and set it on his tongue, rejecting the water and swallowing it dry, gasping in psychological relief as he felt it go down to his stomach. 

“Thank you.”, he whispered and clutched onto Minho’s arm. The redhead sank down to sit on the floor next to the couch by Chris’ head. Chris laid with his eyes squeezed shut, groaning, waiting for the pill to kick in and take the smallest bit of the razor sharp edge of pain off. Minho picked up one of the books that lay on the ground near him and pulled his glasses down from the top of his head in front of his eyes. Chris, having heard the rustles of the book pages, turned his head to look at Minho, inches away. His face was contorted in pain, and Minho struggled to look him in the eyes. “C… could you read to me?”, he managed to ask through his shaky breaths. 

Minho thought for a moment about what to read, then flipped to a dog eared page half way through the book. He reached up to stroke Chris’ hair, wet with sweat, as he read the passage to him softly. Chris continued to make little groans and sounds of struggles next to him. 

_ “Let us go hence: the night is now at hand; _

_ The day is overworn, the birds all flown; _

_ And we have reaped the crops the gods have sown; _

_ Despair and death; deep darkness o'er the land, _

_ Broods like an owl; we cannot understand _

_ Laughter or tears, for we have only known _

_ Surpassing vanity: vain things alone _

_ Have driven our perverse and aimless band. _

_ Let us go hence, somewhither strange and cold, _

_ To Hollow Lands where just men and unjust _

_ Find end of labour, where's rest for the old, _

_ Freedom to all from love and fear and lust. _

_ Twine our torn hands! O pray the earth enfold _

_ Our life-sick hearts and turn them into dust.” _

When Minho had finished, his hand stopped its movement on his friend’s hair and he glanced up to look at his face. Chris’ eyes had closed and his breathing had shallowed. He looked at peace. He studied his face, inches away from his own, as he sat on the ground beside him. How could Changbin not see his brother anymore, he wondered? To Minho, this was the exact same boy as he was when he’d met him at 15. His brown, curly locks, unruly and unkempt, were the same though the ends were now matted from sweat and dried blood. The swell of his upper lip, ever so slightly larger than his bottom but perfectly matched, were just the same, though they were bloody and split in a place or two. His nearly translucent, white skin that Minho had teased him about every summer, in contrast to his own tan, was still there, though bruised in a mosaic of purples and yellows hues. 

Under it all, he was still the same Chris. The one who’d helped Minho finish his 9th grade science project last minute when it had been destroyed by his cat. The one who’d sat with him on the bus to school, showing him pictures of things in his comic books he wished he could be. The one who, despite his reputation for having a ravenous appetite, would share half of his lunch with Minho when his family could not afford to send him with one. Chris was Chris, chemically altered or not. Minho would stand by that firmly; until the very end. 

He sat the book down on the coffee table and began to rise to his feet when Chris hand wrapped around his wrist weakly. 

“Stay with me.”, he whispered, eyes still closed. Minho sank back down after a moment, to his place on the floor. Chris let go of his wrist and went back to focusing on relaxing his body. Minho picked the book back up and flipped to another passage. He looked at one of his favorite poems, at his notes scribbled in the margins, and considered not reading it aloud. He read it aloud anyways. 

_ I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I _

_ Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then? _

_ But sucked on country pleasures, childishly? _

_ Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers’ den? _

_ ’Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be. _

_ If ever any beauty I did see, _

_ Which I desired, and got, ’twas but a dream of thee. _

_ And now good-morrow to our waking souls, _

_ Which watch not one another out of fear; _

_ For love, all love of other sights controls, _

_ And makes one little room an everywhere. _

_ Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone, _

_ Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown, _

_ Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one. _

_ My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears, _

_ And true plain hearts do in the faces rest; _

_ Where can we find two better hemispheres, _

_ Without sharp north, without declining west? _

_ Whatever dies, was not mixed equally; _

_ If our two loves be one, or, thou and I _

_ Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die. _

And with that, Chris had drifted to sleep, medicated just enough to find a moment of peace. Minho followed suit and fell asleep with his head lulled back against the couch cushion beside Chris’. The same Chris he'd known and loved all this time. He'd never see him as any different than that. Never. 


End file.
